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etfrin · 6 months

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❝ꜱᴏᴜʟꜱ ᴛᴏ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ❞ — chapter twenty-four | coriolanus snow

「ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢ:」 NSFW | murder, getting away with murder, minor character death, pinv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it dumbfucks), riding, fingering (f. receiving), hints of edging, blood kink if you squint, creampie, virgin! Coryo lossing virginity | lmk if I forgot anything

「ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ:」 young! Coriolanus Snow x fem! Reader

「ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:」 the end

「ᴀ/ɴ:」 the last chapter! I probably won't do an epilogue, i am not entirely sure on it yet! But this wraps up their story!! I hope you guys liked it! Make sure to reblog and give ne your feedback!

beta read by an angel (TRUTH) @nowitsmissing

thank you to everyone who was on this journey with me... I love you guys!

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Coriolanus finds Lucy Gray near the hanging tree. It was nearly evening. Lucy Gray's eyes were red. Coriolanus ignored the pity he felt. Soon, Lucy Gray would join Sejanus Plinth.

“Lucy Gray,” he hissed, taking her attention away from the tree.

“You'll need to leave,” he said, his voice faking desperation, “to the North. Sejanus would have wanted that.”

“What about you?” Lucy Gray asked, “What about the Covey?”

“The Covey will live, Lucy Gray, you know that. They're strong. They're survivors,” he replied, “as for me, I wish to leave with you. I can't stay in the place that took my friend.”

Coriolanus' eyes quickly filled with tears as soon as he finished. “It's all my fault,” his lips utter, “if only I could have stopped him.”

Lucy Gray looks at him, her face stricken with grief. She doesn't say anything but lets the tears fall down her cheeks. She pulls Coriolanus into a hug.

“The Peacekeepers will look for me, I'll stay in the cabin for the night,” Lucy Gray said. There was a cabin, near the lake, over the fence of the district. Nobody ventures that far except the Covey. Coriolanus and Sejanus only found out about its existence due to their connection with Lucy Gray.

He remembered all the moments he spent there with the Covey. It would be a good place for Lucy Gray to perish. Around all the greens and the music of mockingjays inside the forest.

“I'll meet you there tomorrow in the morning with supplies,” he said, holding Lucy Gray's hand, even giving it a friendly squeeze. He was afraid he was overselling the act but Lucy Gray was too sad to notice how over-the-top friendly Coriolanus was acting.

Lucy Gray nods and turns to leave. Her legs were shaky as she walked. Sejanus and Lucy Gray had to keep their relationship a secret for obvious reasons. But everyone would point at her for the mayor’s daughter's death. It didn't end with Sejanus Plinths' death. It won't because the mayor is trying to root out every single rebel, and surely he won't keep alive the girl his daughter hated so much.

Coriolanus finds his way back to the base. It's night by the time he returns. He climbs up the stairs and walks down the hallway to reach your room. He knocks and waits for you to open the door.

You do.

Coryo tried his best not to get distracted at the sight of you. You were looking so pretty. You look beautiful to him all the time. “Hi,” he gasps out.

“Hey,” you smile, giving him space to walk inside the room. Peacekeepers knew by now that something was going on between him and you. They knew better than to gossip about it though. It was clear you had the power to do anything you wanted. And everyone knew not to mess with someone from the Capitol.

That is why Coriolanus knew even if he spent the night here. He won't get in trouble. He pulls off his Peacekeeper uniform and wears one of the big, oversized sweatshirts you bought from the Capitol. The softness of the fabric makes him shy. He felt like a boy again. It was a feeling he never thought he would enjoy. For a moment, he could pretend he was in the Capitol, in his home, before the games had ever happened.

“You look comfy,” you tease him, as you find your home in his arms.

“I am,” he murmurs, his lips kissing your temple.

“I talked to Lucy Gray,” he informs you, “You were right. She's going to the north and she'll stay in the cabin for the night.”

“Hmm,” you hum, as you nuzzle your face into his shoulder, your lips pressing soft kisses to his pulse. Your arms around him, and his arms around you. Both of you caging each other. The heat of both of your bodies mingled into a pleasant warmth.

“Well, then my revolver will come in handy soon,” you whispered, a bit tired.

“They let you bring one here?” He questions.

“Special privileges,” you replied.

Any other day Coriolanus would feel jealousy pulling at his heart, a frown formatting on his face. Today, he just… didn't care. He didn't care that you had more benefits than him. He didn't care that you lived better than him.

You're his.

Could anything be better than that?

He doesn't think so.

“Typical,” he said, his head now on your shoulders.

“Uh huh,” you add, “Stay the night.”

“Of course, dove.”

You lay down on the bed beside him. His arm was thrown over your waist, and your legs tangled with him. You gently let your nails scratch at his buzz cut. He sighs, relaxing from your touch.

“Tomorrow is a big day,” you remind him, “We'll have to finish everything by noon and catch the train in the evening.”

“We?” He questioned.

“I talked with Dr. Gaul,” you revealed, a bit hesitant, “She wants you back.” You frown, “Don't let the news deter from our plan Coriolanus, it's important we leave no strings behind.”

Coriolanus blinks, trying to take in your words. A smile splits on his face. He couldn't believe this, he had thought he would have to wait for months before Dr. Gaul let him get back to the Capitol. Snow thought she would be petty like that. But you somehow managed to convince her otherwise. It was shocking, to say the least.

“I will go to the Capitol with you tomorrow,” he said. He repeats, “I'll go to the Capitol with you tomorrow!”

You giggled, “Yes, Coriolanus. You thought I would leave you behind? It took some… it doesn't matter. We'll have our happily ever after.”

“I can't believe it,” he whispers, his eyes shining with joy, even with the darkness of the room, you could see his eyes sparkling.

“You should,” you whispered, “now sleep, darling. It's a big day tomorrow.”

Coriolanus couldn't believe it. He pressed your lips against yours. “Thank you,” he lets out, “I love you.” Coriolanus takes your hand, and presses a kiss to your wrist, on the number tattooed on your skin. “I love you, my dove,” he whispered.

“I love you too, pretty boy,” you whispered.

Coriolanus pulls impossible closer as if he were trying to mold both of your souls together. “I am glad you're mine,” he said. He kissed your forehead. “You're mine forever,” he whispered, a hint of darkness, and obsession creeping into his voice.

It made you bite your lower lip as you heard the possessiveness in his voice. “I know,” you replied, “You're mine too.” You add, your voice muffled as your face was pressed into his chest, “Nobody can take you away from me ever again.”

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

In the morning, both of you quietly wake up in each other's arms. Coriolanus yawns, “Good morning, dove.” You hum something Coriolanus couldn't hear in reply.

It was so early that the sun had just begun to rise. However, he could hear the sound of rain. Coriolanus quickly gets out of the bed. He softly pats you on the cheek, smiling as you continue to fight the battle against sleep.

“See you soon,” he whispered, taking the revolver you had in your drawer and walking out of the room. He finds himself on his bunk bed, everyone else is sleeping, and he quickly begins to pack things inside of his bags. The supplies he told Lucy Gray about. When he is done, he briefly stops by in front of Sejanus Plinth's bed.

There was a box in which Sejanus Plinth kept his belongings. Coriolanus opens it to find letters, medicine, and two photos. One of Lucy Gray. Another was of Coriolanus and Sejanus, a photo taken from the time during the broadcast of the 10th Games. It seemed like yesterday.

Coriolanus Snow had no explanation for the tears that fell down his cheeks. Sejanus Plinth was dead. Snow had given Dr. Gaul the gun, and you made her pull the trigger. It's in her hands the blood of Sejanus truly was. Not on him nor you.

Coriolanus wipes his tears away. “She's coming soon to you, buddy,” he whispered to the picture. He wondered if Sejanus would thank him for his next actions, or curse him. Coriolanus doesn't think about it much, he leaves.

Soon enough, he reaches the cabin. “Lucy Gray,” he calls out. Lucy Gray opens the door, giving Coriolanus a polite smile. Lucy Gray lets him inside. He enters, looking around the old cabin he has been inside of many times. Coriolanus sets his bag down. Wondering about what he should do next. Should he wait for you? Should he take out the gun and shoot now?

Before he can decide his next actions, Lucy Gray pulls out a knife. “I think I’ll go dig up some Katniss since we got the fire going anyway. There’s a good patch by the lake.”

“I thought they weren’t ready,” he said. Katniss was another word for swamp potato. It grew around here, but just a few days ago Lucy Gray told him it wasn't ready for harvest.

“Two weeks can make a lot of difference,” she said.

“It’s raining,” he objected. “You’ll get soaked.”

She replied, “Well, I’m not made of sugar.”

Coriolanus lets her walk outside. It was a form of mercy, trying to give her some time to run. He knew that Lucy Gray's survival instincts were good. That was the only reason she had survived the arena.

But she won't be able to survive him.

Coriolanus follows her trail after a moment passes. She wasn't down the lake as she promised, but her footsteps were towards the forest. Coriolanus smirks as he takes the revolver out, and gets the gun ready for a shot.

“Let the hunger games begin,” he whispered, “may the odds be in your favor.”

Coriolanus continues to follow her trail quietly and quickly, using the training of being a Peacekeeper. His gun pointed in front of him, ready to be shot the moment he saw her. “Lucy Gray,” he calls out, his voice warm as if he wasn't going to murder, “Where are you? We need to leave soon.”

“Lucy Gray!” He turns when he hears footsteps and shoots, hoping not to miss. The shot met with flesh, the sound booming in his ear, much more overwhelming than the tap tap of the rain. He walks towards the body that is now in front of him. Red blood mixed with the rainwater on the ground, staining the greenery around them.

He shot her right in the chest.

Lucy Gray was dead.

She joined Sejanus Plinth in the afterlife and will spend the rest of eternity cursing Coriolanus. Snow couldn't find himself to clear. He felt relieved. No one can drag him down now. The only way for him was to climb the ladder and reach the peak. Coriolanus uses his feet to turn her dead body around. There was blood dripping down her lips, her dress red and her were nearly closed. She was nothing more than a dead body. Gone was the songbird.

Now it was time to get rid of the body.

He was grateful that the rain would cover the tracks. But he had to be careful as it was easy to slip and get hurt himself. He drags the body without any rush, he thinks of you, waiting in the cabin for him to come back. Both of you will go back to the Capitol. Snow will be together with his family, in the future you'll also become his family. Everything was going to be fine.

This was nothing but a simple stepping stone.

He could feel his arms getting tired but he continued to drag the body by her arms until he reached the edge of the lake. There was a boat. He wondered briefly if he should just take her on the boat and cross to the middle of the river to let her drown. But decided that it would be too much trouble, and pushed her to the river. A big splash occurs. And he could see Lucy Gray slowly but surely falling to her end.

Lucy Gray was gone from this world forever.

He throws the revolver into the river as well. The body would decompose in a matter of days. Everyone would think of her as a traitor. Even if the Covey comes to visit the lake again, they'll never know it's their beloved Lucy Gray's grave.

Coriolanus Snow reaches the cabin and opens the door to see you holding a Peacekeeper’s gun. The same gun he had used to shoot Mayfair and Billy Taupe. “Guess Spruce hid it here,” you grin at him. You were slightly wet from the rain, unlike him, he was soaking wet.

“Yeah,” he lets out, his shoulders relaxed, his face mirroring your smile. “We'll have to throw those in the lake too.”

You chuckled, “Let's not leave any stones unturned.”

Coryo couldn't take it anymore, the adrenaline was too much. “We won't,” he said, as he walked towards you until your back was on the wall. He takes the gun from you and throws it to the side. Neither of you flinch from the loud noise, the two of you too focused on each other instead. He closes the space between the both of you.

“But for now, I want you,” he adds, “No- that's not right. I need you, here.”

He doesn't wait for a reply. He crashed his lips to yours. You find yourself kissing him back. Your tongue exploring his mouth, he sucks at your bottom lip. Not caring that his teeth are digging into your flesh too harshly, that he's responsible for the coppery taste that occurs while you continue kissing.

“You sure?” You gasp as you break the kiss. A string of saliva connecting you both. Coriolanus doesn't reply, he finds his solace from the taste of your skin. He pressed his lips to your neck, sloppily kissing down your pulse. You softly moan, tilting your head to give him more access.

Coryo takes full advantage of that. He was going to claim you any way that he could. Carving his initials on your skin wasn't the only way after all. Cumming inside of you, giving your pretty red hickeys, the print of his fingers on your hips, even the soulmate tattoo you have on your wrist. All these are ways for him to fucking own you.

And own you he shall.

He bites onto your neck as if trying to tear out your flesh. He wants to consume you, soul and all. You cry out, your back arching. Your hips meet his, and he presses his hard bulge against you. He finds himself in between your legs. Your clothed cunt against his denim-cladded cock. You begin to grind against him, as he continues the assault on your neck.

The teeth mark he placed on your skin will remain for days. It will bruise on doubt. Coriolanus didn't have it in him right now to be gentle. He was too fucking drunk on you for that. All of his desires were rushing through, breaking his walls and overwhelming his mind.

“Fuck,” he curses as he realized his lips are red from your blood. His bites had broken your skin and now tiny droplets of blood were forming. He licks them all up and murmurs an apology. He pressed his lips on yours, painting your lips the same shade as his and making you taste yourself. His hips had slowed down the grinding against you.

He steps back and begins to undress. He lets his t-shirt and jeans fall to the ground. He takes his thick cock out of the confines of his boxers. He grips the base of length, trying to control himself as he watches you follow suit.

He pulls you against him again and nods his head towards the floor. You understand his intention and lay down. He bites his lip, sudden nerves overcoming him. He doesn't know what to do despite the raunchy stories he has heard from his fellow Peacekeepers.

Is he supposed to hold your hand or your hips? Should he just push in? Isn't he supposed to prep you first? Or are you wet enough? Fuck… it wasn't the first time he was intimate with you. He hadn't gone all the way but he was familiar with your body. But most of the time he was overwhelmed with his desire to think about what to do or not to do. This time his mind was clear, he was focusing solely on you and he wanted you to experience nothing less of ecstasy from his touch.

“Coryo?” you question, bringing him out of his internal monologue. “Is there anything wrong?”

“I-” he doesn't want to admit, but he knows he has to, “I don't know what to do right now.”

“You can do whatever you like. I'll tell you if you mess up, sweetheart.”

“I know,” he sighs, his eyes on your tits, he licks his lips, “but I am-” He swallows, trying to explain, “I want you. I don't know how to take you. Everything feels like too much or too little.”

You sit up. You gently cradle his cheeks in your hands. “We have all the time in the world, Coryo. What do you wanna do first?”

“I-” He doesn't form a full sentence, instead he kisses you. His hand is on your nape and another trailing down your body as he softly nips at your lips. He dips down his hand in between your legs, he pressed his palm onto your cunt. He lets himself be coated by your arousal. His breath hitches as he feels your heat in such an obscene way.

“Oh,” he whispered as he pressed a single finger inside of your walls. “I missed this.” He remembers the night when he first felt your tight, slick walls like this. He was rough that night, a bit mean too. Coriolanus wasn't going to be the same today. He plans to worship you.

He begins to slowly thrust his index finger inside of you. His head on your shoulder, his lips kissing any inch of skin he could find as he continues to stretch you out with a single finger. Then he adds another one, he was met with resistance, but he pressed his thumb to your clit. That makes you gasp, your cunt squeezing around his fingers when his thumb begins to draw small circles on the bud.

“Relax, dove,” he whispered, giving you goosebumps.

He doesn't begin to move his fingers even when you whine impatiently, your walls twitching around his digits. Once he deems that you're relaxed enough, he begins to slowly push inside of your pussy, as deep as his fingers could reach. He was trying his best to get you ready for his cock.

His fingertips begin to press into your walls, trying to find that one spot that would get you drunk on him as much as he's drunk on you. He knows he found the spot when he feels your walls pulse around his digits like it had a heartbeat of its own. You gasp his name and he smirks. He whispers to your ear, “That's it, huh?”

“Yes!” You moan, “Faster!”

Coriolanus Snow obeys because he can never say no to you. He begins to fuck his fingers inside of you faster, slipping his ring finger inside of you as well. He thrusts his digits fast and hard, he groans as he sees your pussy stretched to accommodate his long digits. He keeps his fingers slightly curved so that with each thrust he would press into your g-spot.

“Fuck, fuck, you're so pretty.”

Coriolanus couldn't be sure if he was saying that to you, or your cunt. He continues to keep up his speed, the sloppy, wet sounds of your pussy louder than of the rain. Coriolanus could hear you moan his name as he feels your pussy get impossibly tighter around his digits before your walls begin to spasm all over, locking his digits in. He doesn't pull them out, instead, he continues to press hard onto your spongy pleasure spot until you whine his name.

Your juices were now all over his fingers. He didn't waste a second to taste them. He looks into your eyes as he licks his digits clean. He runs his tongue between the spaces of his fingers, making sure he doesn't miss a single spot. When he's done, you pull him in for a kiss. You moan into his mouth as you taste yourself, you find yourself in his lap, his back pressed to the wooden floor.

Your hand pulls at the dog tag he wore. You use the necklace like a leash, pulling at it like he's a dog you're commanding. You wrap your fingers around it, your thumb caressing the metal pendant. “You're mine,” you whispered in wonder, “You taste of me.”

Coriolanus nods, agreeing to whatever you say. He just wants you! That's it. Ruin him. Ruin him for everybody else forever! You have that power. Take it and use it, that's all he wants.

You raise your hips, taking his cock in your hand. You pressed his tip against your clit, you gasped as you slowly began to rub his cockhead against your pearl. His pre-cum coating your bud, and soon all over your cunt. You were teasing him every time you let his cockhead get near your slit, but you don't let him slip inside of you. He lets out a whimper when you do it again.

Coriolanus finds out how easily he could make you. He switches the position within a split second, his hands on your hips as he uses his weight to press you down. You don't fight back. He growls out your name, his eyes flashing in annoyan

“Please-” he whines, “stop teasing.”

“Make me,” you smirk.

“Don't-” kiss, “Play-,” kiss, “With-” kiss, “Me.”

“Not when I have waited for you for so long,” he adds.

His fingers pressed into your flesh. He gets a hold of his length and pressed it to your slit. “Can I?” He asked you, he wanted your permission. He needs your ‘yes’ before he takes you as his forever.

“Of course, Coryo.”

He begins to push in his tip, his length slipping inside of you with ease. He gasps as he feels your warmth all over his cock. The feeling is so overwhelming that he has to stop midway to not cum right away. He squeezed the base of his dick before he continued to push inside of you again, slowly inch by inch. He breathes through his mouth, his eyes closed as pleasure fills every corner of his mind. You felt perfect.

“You feel so good,” he whines.

His cock twitched inside of your walls. He bites the inside of his mouth, trying to use pain to distract himself from the mind-blowing pleasure. Meanwhile, you clenched your pussy as if to see how much his cock had stretched you. The two of you gasped from the feeling.

“Fuc- ah!”

Coryo pulls out a few of his inches and begins to thrust in. You moan out, feeling pleasure in your veins and seeing stars in your eyes. Snow's hands were on either side of your head as he balanced himself above you. His dog tag dangles in front of your lips as his hips continue to move. You wrapped your legs around his waist, pushing his cock even deeper into you. Coriolanus lets out a groan from the feeling.

“I won't be able to last long,” he admits, his cheeks getting red. Despite the overwhelming pleasure, he couldn't help but feel ashamed about how heavy his balls were with cum ready to be released inside of you.

“You will,” you whispered your hand on his nape. You squeeze it. “You will last as long as I fucking want, Coriolanus,” you said to him, pulling him down to meet your lips. The kiss was messy and open-mouthed. Another hand of yours was on his shoulder, your nails digging into his skin. You were marking him in your own way. With long, red scratches.

Coriolanus slows down, ready to please you however you want. You moan into his mouth and he eats the sound up. Coriolanus thrusts his hips faster, unable to truly control himself. How could he when you made him feel this good? He couldn't decide on the pace. He wanted this to last hours. He wanted to cum.

He kept switching between fast and slow until he found himself with his back on the floor. You are on top of him, your hands holding his hands above his head. “Be a good boy,” you said to him before you began to ride him.

You grind yourself against his cock, letting his cockhead kiss your spongy spot with each movement of your hips. Your arousal was coating your thighs and now it was on his skin as well. You were so wet and messy. Coriolanus loved it. You use one hand of yours to play with his balls. Coriolanus could feel his eyes rolling back.

“Don't- I-” he cries out in bliss when you squeeze his balls gently. You hush him with a kiss, your hips moving according to your will. You had set the perfect pace. It wasn't too much for either of you, letting the pleasure be prolonged.

He knew you were close with the way your push was contracting on his shaft. He knew you were close because your eyes were closed and fuck, you were cock drunk on him. He knew you were close because you had slowed down, and now rocking your hips back and forth. The hold you had on his hands had loosened. He breaks free without a fuss and places his hands on your hips.

He begins to push his hips up, fucking his cock into you. You whine, your eyes opening as you see him take control again. His teeth pulled at his lower lip, silencing his groans as he continues to fuck into you in this position. You use one of your hands to rub at your sensitive clit, feeling yourself getting closer to the edge.

You tense, your pussy tightening around Coriolanus’ cock. Your only warning was the moan of his name as your cunt begins to spasm around his dick. Coriolanus lets out a deep groan, his lower lip bloody from how hard his teeth dug into the flesh. He fucks you throughout your orgasm.

“Get off,” he whines, “I can't cum inside of you.”

“Do I look like I give a fuck?”

Coriolanus doesn't realize he's coming inside of you until he feels like jelly. He had stuffed you full of his thick, hot cum without a warning. But you had already stated you didn't give a fuck. So he supposed it didn't matter. All that mattered was that he had you now.

Forever.

✧ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✦✧✦ ▬▭▬ ▬▭▬ ✧

Hours later, you and Coriolanus find yourself at the train station. Ready to go back to the Capitol, once and for all. Commander Hoff had personally come to escort you both.

Coriolanus was about to enter the train. You were already inside. But Commander Hoff stops him, “Son.” Coriolanus stills, waiting to hear what Hoff has to say.

“Don't let her go. You don't know what she had to keep you safe.”

Coriolanus looks Commander Hoff in the eyes and nods. “I won't,” he promises, knowing damn well he will keep it with his life. Coriolanus gets inside the train after saying goodbye. He stops before he opens the door to the cabin you were sitting in. He pulls up the sleeve of his shirt to look at his wrist. He grins as he sees the scar reverted to the number most important to you.

It was today's date.

Coriolanus slides the door and walks to his future.

Coriolanus walks to you.

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seat-safety-switch · 3 months

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Have you considered purchasing an "investment property?" A lot of folks are doing it these days, buying a second or third building that they then rent out to other people. Problem is, being a landlord is unethical and may even be a crime against humanity! Don't worry, we have a solution.

One of the fastest-growing businesses in America today is the humble storage locker. We got too many fucking things, it seems, and we don't want to throw any of them out, so we will instead pay someone else a couple hundred bucks a month to keep them on their property. Until our credit card expires, that is, and then they sell all of our shit to some television bargain hunters.

Here's my proposal. Instead of giving those people money (and eventually the salvage rights to your aunt Edna's leg lamp,) just give the bank money instead. Buy distressed commercial properties. It's extremely cheap if you shop at the right foreclosure auction, and you'll be bailing out our most important citizens: overleveraged wannabe real-estate moguls. Hey, they're four payments behind on their own Mercedes, so you're really helping the whole economy by keeping that thing out of the repo lot.

Now, you might be doubtful. What am I going to do with this disused office in the middle of nowhere that nobody wants to buy or even rent? Easy. Commercial districts often have extremely permissive rules about what you can do with "your" property. That means that Peggy Bylaw and Eric Zoning-Laws can't come by and hassle you for keeping, oh, forty cars lying around the place. Look, dude, I don't know what to tell you. It's an investment property that is currently whatever business it has to be in order for you to fuck off. Some eccentric rich dude is paying me to keep his shitty cars here. Yeah, I think he golfs with The Mayor. Surely there's someone with a loud exhaust or the wrong colour of dog that you could be bothering instead.

The best part is saved for last. When you forget to pay the property tax, the city gives you at least a year of increasingly-angry letters before they start seizing your stuff and selling it off. Much nicer terms than the storage locker fascists, and the folks who shop at those auctions are only looking for old cop cars to buy, so you can probably buy back your own stuff and get excited about it all over again.

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the-lavender-clown · 10 months

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MORE COWBOY AU STUFF BECAUSE I’M OBSESSED!!! The au I’ve made with some friends is called Fool’s Gold! I may or may not write some fics for it 👀

Here’s an infodump on it if anyone is interested!!

Raph is tired sheriff who sighs at every newspaper & new wanted poster showing off his blue and purple brothers as well as Donnie’s partner in crime but a he can’t help but be a little proud because he knows their doing good, just in their own special & questionable way.

Mikey is a nomad that travels around & sells self-woven clothes and blankets as well as hand carved & painted trinkets or whatever else he’s made. He treats weary travelers to home cooked meals & tales & legends of four brothers! He’s also the only brother not *constantly* making trouble for Raph.

Leo is a lone hero. Going town to town & over throwing whatever greedy mayor/banker/outlaw has that town in its clutches. He’s able to masterfully manipulate whoever he’s dealing with & using his many resources to gather important information. He ties them up to a post for the sheriff’s convenience when he comes by the town to pick them up.

Donnie & Cass are bounty hunters/mercenaries. They used to chase each other for their bounties & because Cass was a part of the Foot before the brothers took them down & Donnie just so happens to often be the closest to her trail once she popped up again. After awhile of constantly failing to catch each other they started thinking of each other as *their* targets & everyone knew better than to try and catch the other. A fun little song & dance/game of cat & mouse if you will. Eventually they ended up having to run from the same person together & realized that they honestly make a good team & have stuck together ever since!

Shelldon is adopted by Donnie before he & Cass teamed up. He was told by the Purple Dragons to get close to Donnie so they could catch him in exchange for enough money to set him for life, money they had no intention on giving him. He did get close to Donnie but in the end didn’t want to betray him but the Dragons had accounted for that & set off an explosion in a mining tunnel to get rid of them both. Donnie ended up being able to get Shelldon a little clear of the crumbling tunnel before he was trapped under the rumble. Shelldon doesn’t want to leave him but eventually does & immediately goes to try to find help, coming across Leo who had found Donnie’s spooked horse & was trying to find out what trouble Donnie had gotten himself into since his horse never leaves unless something really bad happened. Donnie ends up losing a leg cuz is it truly an F!Donnie if he doesn’t?

Casey is adopted after Donnie & Cass team up. They were in town for some groceries when Raph told them about this kid in some not so great circumstances & said it’d be a shame if someone were to beat up his guardians & kidn@p him while he was busy with all this paperwork. Donnie & Cass were gone before he finished. They weren’t gonna pass up an opportunity where they had permission to do a crime after all!

The main difference between Leo & Donnie’s work is that Donnie always cashes in the bad guys for money & can be hired for jobs as well as uses semi lethal methods while Leo mainly does it for fun & justice (& to mess with Raph) & takes like a free drink as payment before moving on. Leo will leave notes on the bad guys for Raph for when he comes to pick them up.

“The Bread Winners” is the name of Donnie, Casey, Shelldon, & Junior’s gang because Casey’s brownie scouts & my Donnie baker hc. It also shows that they’re in it for the money & fits with how the go undercover as a family often. Plus it sounds innocent enough to disguise how insane they really are.

That is it for now!! Hope some of y’all like it!!

Here’s the drawing without the text in the middle

410 notes · View notes

crackedpumpkin · 6 months

Text

𝐈𝐧𝐟𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐌𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐝𝐢𝐞𝐬 | 𝟎𝟑 |

[ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐢𝐨𝐮𝐬 ] | [ 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ] | [ 𝐦𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ]

The last time anyone picked you up was when you were getting your butt kicked by your previous master. He’d grabbed you by the waist, easily lifting you and slamming you back down onto the floor in a swift manoeuvre.

This is exactly the reason why you’re unable to fathom someone carrying you without the intention to fight or harm you. You stare grumpily at Cole’s face, legs dangling off his arm as he carries you to the ambulance.

“I’m fine, y’know. You can put me down now.”

He barely spares you a glance, scanning the crowd for any more injured people. “You’ve sprained your ankle — must’ve been when you fell in that pit. You should get it checked out.”

“Oh, so now you show me concern?” Your sarcastic jab doesn’t go unnoticed, his brows furrowing under his hood.

“What’re you even talking about?” Scoffing, you roll your eyes at the audacity of this man. Luckily, he didn’t hear what you’d uttered before about him being your soulmate and whatever.

In the meantime, the paramedics had checked on other guests who had mumbled grievances about the auction being cancelled. On the other hand, the mayor had personally announced that they would hold it again soon after checking the museum thoroughly to avoid an incident like this again.

You’re surprised when Cole decides to remain with you, citing his duties as a ninja to come to the aid of any injured citizens. The other four are on a makeshift stage set up by the mayor’s team, standing proud and tall as he speaks.

“And lastly, I would like to thank the ninja for once again, being the heroes we need. Additionally, they will be doing another meet-and-greet on the new auction date.” He pauses, noticing someone gesturing to him to hand over the mic to another. “Additionally, it seems that Ms Hamla has something to say.”

Your stepmother walks onto the stage without a single hair out of place, still in her emerald gown. Your eyes narrow in suspicion from where you’re sitting on the chair Cole had managed to score for you.

“What’s she doing…?” Your mutter doesn’t go unnoticed, Cole turning to look at you with curiosity in his gaze. His eyes flit between your glare and the famous writer on stage, before voicing his question.

“Do you know her personally?”

Laughing, a hint of bitterness gives away exactly how you feel about that. “You could say that,” You answer vaguely.

“Hello, citizens of Ninjago. First of all, thank you to the ninjas for evacuating everyone safely and securing the status of the threat. Truly from the bottom of my heart,” Her eyes somehow find yours from the stage. You hold a steady, yet defiant gaze. “Thank you,” She finishes softly, finally looking away.

“I will be here again on the new date of the charity auction,” She continues, her strong voice carrying the weight of her words effectively, “and I will also be selling a limited edition of a new book I’m writing, titled: ‘You Complete Me’. All proceeds will go to charity. I hope you will be able to make it.”

Scoffing, you brush off the odd look the paramedic gives you before he finishes bandaging your ankle. Chatters break out amongst the audience, everyone’s invested excitement helping fuel the eagerness of the mayor’s team.

She better not be expecting you to come again, though. Once is more than the amount you’re willing to do for her. Your vision is blocked by a pair of concerned eyes, Cole having knelt to check on your ankle.

“I’m fine,” You repeat with a sigh, letting him scan the now bandaged ankle. Wincing when he presses down on a sore spot, you quickly mask it with an annoyed purse of your lips. “If you keep doing that, I might end up hospitalised.”

“Fine,” He quickly drops your ankle, sucking a sharp breath through his teeth at your glare. “Sorry…” The tinge of guilt in his smile makes you feel a little bad for being so mean, but the very thought of confronting him about anything makes you feel squeamish inside.

Pausing, you recall the hooded figure you saw in the room he’d found you in. Do any of them know…? The scroll they held looked valuable, and if there’s anything you’ve learnt from watching detective shows and reading mystery novels, it’s that it’s never a good sign to leave any stone unturned.

“Hey,” you begin, faltering slightly when he looks up at you with a doe-like gaze. You ignore it, pushing past the way your stupid heart kind of squeezes. “Earlier in the exhibition room, there was someone. They had a scroll in their hands and it looked pretty important.”

“Well, maybe it’s just a common thief. We get some of those around these parts.” He replies lightheartedly.

“The scroll was glowing.” Now that got his attention. The disbelief in his eyes is more than enough for you to crack an amused grin, tilting your head to the side as you observe the cogs in his brain starting to turn.

“Glowing?” He repeats.

You nod. “Glowing.” Now having his full attention, you begin telling him about your encounter, and how the stranger had fled through the skylight with the weird gauntlet they had. He listens to every word with intrigue, the space between his brows creasing more and more until a full frown is on his face.

“Thanks for telling me this,” He says once you’re done, standing back up and dusting off the specks of dirt on his gi, “I’ll be sure to alert the others. Can I have your number?” You hesitate, raising a sceptical brow.

He pauses, shoulders tense as he tries to clarify his intentions. “It’s so that we can ask you some follow-up questions if we have any, and maybe you can provide Zane with a description so he can do a sketch.”

So much for never seeing each other again.

“Fine,” you shrug, keying in your number on the phone he hands you and adding your name. He takes it back and gives it a quick call. You pull out your phone as it rings, swiping left to pick up the call before holding it to your ear and going, “Truth or dare?”

“Neither, unfortunately,” he chuckles, pocketing his phone after hanging up. “Thanks for the info. You can send me the medical bill for your ankle, the ninja fund will cover it.”

“Ninja fund?” You repeat incredulously. If there were an award for the worst names of a foundation or charity, you’d give it to him, no questions asked.

He turns with a grin. “Ninja fund.”

You hesitate for a split second before making a decision. “Let’s not meet again, Cole.” His back stiffens, his steps slowing to a halt, clearly having heard you. He turns slowly, eyes wide like a deer in headlights as the realisation dawns on him that you know that he knows.

“I’ll- uh, do my best, random citizen!” He replies robotically, lifting his arm in an awkward salute before taking off to where the rest of his teammates are. You watch his retreating back with a half-smile, filled with pure amusement.

“There you are!” You’re ambushed by a sudden hug, the shock fading as you lean into your father’s embrace. The judge’s wig he still has on tickles your nose a little, but you repress the sneeze that threatens to ruin the moment.

He pulls away, firmly planting on your shoulders as he checks you over for injuries. “I was looking all over the place for you. Did anyone hurt you-” His eyes finally land on your bandaged ankle, looking up with a huge frown.

The sheepish chuckle that slips past your lips doesn’t help your case. “That’s it. We’re going home now.”

“What about her?” You reluctantly nod over to Emily who’s getting swarmed by reporters, her calm composure somehow irking you even more than Cole did.

“She’ll be fine,” His eyes soften when he looks over at her. The sight makes you feel queasy, looking down at your shoes and fiddling with your cuticles, picking away at them. “Come on,” He helps you up, placing an arm under your shoulder and walking with you to the car.

“Also,” He adds upon closing the car doors after helping you in, “Your classes are supposed to start next week. So till then, no going out until you’re better.” He holds up a finger, stopping you in your tracks as you part your lips to protest. You slouch in your seat instead with an annoyed frown, glaring out the window. A thought occurs to you, inhaling sharply when you realise something crucial.

You forgot to get the rest of the ninjas’ autographs.

— — — — —

School is boring. That’s a fact you’ll never grow accustomed to. Classes are typical, with few lectures that grab your attention. Professors are mostly chill, though there’s a Miss Grenadine in every school it seems.

All the pain in your sprained ankle had faded in about a week, two days after classes started. Luckily, this meant that Dad wouldn’t drop you off at school every day anymore, and you’d be able to take the bus or train as usual.

However, the time taken for your ankle to fully recover meant that you were mostly cooped up at home with nothing to do except decorate or rearrange your bedroom however you liked. Dad had painted your room a soft grey and installed a few pieces of IKEA furniture you’d bought online.

Your room began to feel more cosy, more like your own personal space. Before you moved, you were too lazy to redecorate and kept the pastel blue walls you’d painted when you were seven years old.

Now though, you’re trekking out of the university with your tote bag and an iced latte in hand, trying to beat the heat by taking refuge in the shadows of tall buildings around. Your laptop is dangerously exposed in the bag, occasionally hitting your arm as you walk down the street.

Your phone begins to vibrate, playing the opening lines of a trot song that Nico had made you put in as a penalty for losing a bet. You’d grown used to the cheesy tune over time, no longer bothered by it and actually embracing how cringy it sounds.

“What up?” You greet nonchalantly, hearing your dad’s soft chuckle on the other end.

“Hey munchkin, just wanted to check if you’re on the way to the monastery.”

“Yeah, I think I’ll reach home by eight. Want anything?”

Your dad hums over the phone, pondering. “No, I’ll be fine. I’ll get dinner for Emily. Make sure you don’t stay out too late though, you’re not used to the city layout yet.” He was supposed to drive you to the monastery, but a sudden work emergency needed his presence and he had to let you go by yourself instead.

To be fair, it did require a bit of persuasion on your side. He relented after a while and sent you the location. You just didn’t know that it’d be absolutely sweltering in the afternoon. Spotting a boba store only a few feet away, you quickly end the conversation.

“No problem, I’ll see you tonight! Bye!” The monotonous dial greets your ears upon hanging up, approaching the bored staff member who’s chilling at the cashier. “Hi, can I get an Earl Grey milk tea?”

She keys in the order with lazy fingers, practically jabbing at the screen and telling you the price. Warily taking out the cash in your wallet, you hand it to her with a small smile. The boba is made quickly enough to your surprise, the staff member’s swift movements leave you impressed when she hands you the packaged cup with a blank stare and goodbye.

Sweet, sweet relief.

That’s exactly what hits your tongue when you take a sip, gulping down almost a third of the drink before finding some semblance of self-control. This won’t do. You need to get there faster than walking under the hot sun.

Flagging down a taxi takes only mere seconds, leaving you astounded by the sheer amount of drivers who halted in front of you before demanding that you should choose them.

City life is intimidating.

You choose to go with a friendly uncle who wasn’t as aggressive as the rest, sitting in the back and sighing in relief as the air-conditioning hits. “Where to?” He asks, shutting the car door.

“Uh,” you double-check your phone, “The monastery of Spinjitsu please.” He gives a single nod, beginning the drive. You relax your upper body, tilting your head sideways to ease your tense neck. The smooth drive kinda makes you a little drowsy, but mainly relieved that you’re no longer exposed to the heat.

Would your new teacher be young and agile, or old and wise? Wondering about the different possibilities of what he might teach you does make you feel sceptical. After all, Emily’s the one who signed you up for it without your consent.

Either way, you’re actually kind of excited to meet this new teacher of yours.

— — — — —

“There is no fucking way I’m climbing up this many steps.” you stare in disbelief at the stretch ahead, unable to even see a glimpse of the foretold monastery your phone directs you to.

The distance is unbelievable, let alone the amount of cardio this would mean for you. Sure, you’re somewhat fit from the occasional jogging and kendo, but this? You’re not sure you’ll make it up there alive.

Maybe there’s a lift or wheelchair platform…?

You look around hopefully, only to be utterly crushed by the absence of any potential aid. Shaking your head with a sigh, you mentally prepare yourself for the journey ahead. Luckily, you have your drink in hand, so perhaps doing this under the sun won’t be as bad as you think.

Fifteen minutes later, you very much regret choosing today of all days to check this off the to-do list. Gritting your teeth, you turn around and take a break, collapsing on the step and catching your breath.

You’d made it halfway so far, but the sun’s relentless heat continuously beats down on your back, practically sweating through the already thin material of your black tank top. Regret fills you with the memory of an identical tank top in white hanging in your wardrobe back home, the current colour absorbing even more heat than it should.

You’d taken off the chic outer layer and stuffed it into your tote bag, though it’s becoming heavier with each step up the mountain. “Out of all places, they chose a mountain,” You mutter heatedly, gulping down the rest of your now warm drink.

After a few more moments of rest, you pick yourself back up, groaning as the joints in your hips pop loudly. “I swear, when I get there, they better have a towel or something…” If they didn’t, you’d be damned sure to get your hands on some water at least.

Encouraged by the thought, you pick up the pace.

Twenty minutes later, you finally reach the huge, ornate doors that stand tall above you. Sweat drips down the sides of your face, and your shirt soaked with sweat. God knows how your armpits feel.

You barely have the strength to push the doors wide open, opting instead for a simple knock. There’s no response. You’re practically on your knees, hands placed flat on the ground from exhaustion.

Just as you lift a limp arm to knock once more, the door opens.

“...Can I help you…?”

Looking up, your eyes widen upon seeing a familiar face. The Ice Ninja mirrors your reaction, kneeling and offering you a hand. “Come in, let’s get you something cold.”

Summoning enough strength to nod, you grab his hand and pull yourself up. Tiredness hinders your normal movements but certainly isn’t enough to keep a snarky comment from escaping your mouth.

“You guys ever thought about relocation?”

— — — — —

A shower and quick change of clothes kindly provided by Zane leave you a whole new person. Towelling your hair dry, you hand Zane the towel he lent from the supply closet. “Thanks, Zane, I don’t think I could’ve survived any training, much less meet Master Wu as I was earlier.”

He chuckles, neatly folding the towel. “It’s quite alright. I understand our location may not be the best, which is why we always have a guest room and shower available for those who visit.”

Depositing the towel into a random laundry basket in the hallway, he continues to guide you through the area. “Those are Nya’s clothes, by the way. She doesn’t mind if you take them; they’re usually meant for beachwear. What brings you here?”

“I’m supposed to be a new student. Emily signed me up for lessons here, since I had to quit my previous dojo when we moved to the city,” You explain, pausing to stare at the courtyard with intrigue.

“Oh? What did you do there?” Zane asks, stopping with you. The children who take lessons at the monastery run amok in the courtyard with joy, practising their moves and playing games cheerfully. You’re simply amazed at how they’re able to tolerate the heat. “The walls are built with technology that keeps the interior cool,” he explains, sensing your curiosity.

“That’s a dream come true,” You sigh wistfully, wishing that it was installed into the mountains so that your journey here wasn’t so treacherous. “I used to learn Kendo.” You resume your walk, answering his earlier question.

“Kendo is difficult. It’s very admirable that you’ve learnt it, and are continuing to learn other styles of self-defence.” He brings you to a large room with a tea set neatly laid out on a table in the middle, soft mats covering the wooden floor. “Master Wu will be with you shortly.” You smile in response, giving him your thanks as you sit down.

Once he closes the door, you take a sip of the tea in front of you. They’d been so kind as to already put ice cubes inside your cup, and leave a cooler filled with more drink alternatives like soda to the side.

Say what you will about the ninja and their team, but they know how to treat their guests.

The wooden doors are rather beautiful, you note. Few beams of sunlight pass through, giving the room an almost ethereal glow. Upon placing a hand on the carpet, you notice the coolness seeping through. They must’ve installed something underneath.

Withdrawing your hand and taking another sip, you let out a happy hum at the relief that greets your butt. Impressed doesn't begin to cover how you feel. The atmosphere is tranquil, and you begin to absentmindedly watch the water streaming down a small waterfall in the corner of the room.

The sound of a door sliding open jolts you to your senses, fumbling to put down your teacup. Standing up to greet whoever’s walked in, you’re surprised to see an old man holding a cane staring at you from the doorway.

Is he your new teacher?

“Master Wu…?” You trail off cautiously, not wanting to offend the man in case he’s someone else entirely. He enters the room, sliding the door back into place before turning to assess you.

His gaze is filled with clarity and knowledge, scanning your arms and legs as if knowing how to read even the subtlest scars on your elbows made from blocking your previous teacher’s blows. “I take it that you are Emily’s daughter?”

“Step-daughter,” You correct, though the immediate tensing of your shoulders doesn’t escape his notice. He chooses not to address it, sitting down opposite you and pouring himself a steaming cup of tea instead. “You’re Master Wu, right?”

“Indeed I am if you choose to continue with your lessons.” He takes a single sip, his behaviour akin to wine tasting as he frowns at the tea in his cup. Ascertaining that it’s up to standard, he continues to sip away while keeping a thoughtful eye on you. “I take it that the climb was tiring?”

Heat tinges your cheeks, though you’re unsure as to why you’re so embarrassed. After all, it’s not like you dedicate your time to hiking up a mountain every day. “Yeah. I take it that you guys haven’t thought about installing a lift?” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you cover it in shock.

Damn your impulsiveness, you curse yourself mentally. Your dad already warned you about keeping your mouth shut at times like this. Your previous master even lectured you on it when you said goodbye. You sneak a peek at Master Wu, hoping that you haven’t offended one of the most powerful men in Ninjago City, literally and figuratively.

Instead, he regards you with an emotionless stare. You hold your breath, awaiting a rejection. However, he cracks a smile, rendering you speechless. “We will begin our lessons next Wednesday after your lessons. You can coordinate with Pixal on the schedule.” He picks himself off the floor, dusting off any dirt that had gotten on his robe before exiting the room.

The door slides shut, and your hands fall to your lap. Disbelief is all you can register, replaying a frame-by-frame of your interaction with him and trying to figure out what he found so amusing. Does this signal good news or bad?

“Did everything go well?” You look up to see Zane poking his head in through the doorway. Once he spots the pure astonishment on your face, he chuckles, sitting down in front of you. “He was smiling when he left, so I’m sure it went well.”

“I…I don’t know. I think I pissed him off?”

He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. He rarely smiles, so you should take it as a compliment.” His reassurance soothes your nerves somewhat, and you manage to muster a smile.

“Thanks again for your help Zane,” you say gratefully, walking back through the hallways. He stops by the kitchen to grab a bag with your clothes inside, handing it back to you. The very girl you borrowed clothes from is in the kitchen, eyeing you with intrigue.

“The outfit looks good on you.” You recognise her face from the newspaper, an embarrassed flush on your cheeks when you feel underdressed in front of Nya and her gi. “You can keep it. I’m Nya.”

You shake the hand she holds out to you, heart warmed by her kind smile. “Thanks for the clothes. I was pretty much drenched by the time I got up here,” you laugh. She grins at your joking words. “Are you sure I can keep these though? I mean, they do belong to you after all.”

“I’m sure,” she easily waves it off, grabbing your hands with an excited glint in her eyes. “I’m just glad there’s gonna be another girl around! How old are you, anyway?”

“She’s Cole’s age,” Zane chimes in. You cast him a wary look, surprised that he even knew. Well, that and the fact that you’re still getting used to your soulmate being the literal earth ninja. Luckily, it seems that he hasn’t told anyone here yet about the connection between you both.

“Oh, that’s cool! You’re like an older sister then,” She says happily. “Well, don’t let me stop you from going home to rest. I heard you had an injury not too long ago from the charity auction. Do you feel better now?”

You swivel your ankle with a grin showing it off proudly. “Got it moving and all too.”

“That’s a relief! Zane, you should bring her home. I’d ask Jay but…he and Kai are currently preoccupied,” she trails off, pointing to the other connected room that’s out of sight, a few yells and what seems to be game sound effects reveal what they're up to.

“Anyway, I gotta get back in there with snacks. It was nice meeting you, I hope we get to hang out soon!” You wave goodbye, watching her leave with a bowl of chips in one hand, a bottle of soda in the other, and another bowl of salsa balancing precariously on top of her head.

Ninja things, you reckon.

“So, how do you know my age, exactly?”

“Pixal studied up on you. Please don’t be offended, we didn’t dig too deep. We just do it in case a villain tries to slip into the monastery in disguise.” Zane holds his hands up, the innocence in his eyes drawing a laugh out of you.

“It’s fine. We’re good. Plus, I get it. I’d do that too. It’s hard to trust anyone.”

His shoulders sag with relief, guiding you past the doors and to a space on the side of the monastery. “Please step back,” He instructs. You quickly move a few feet away, unsure of what ninja stuff he might be up to.

A single wave of his arms summons a huge dragon with blue flames that cover its entire being. It roars in greeting, moving its head down to nudge Zane playfully. He chuckles, hopping atop the saddle on its back.

You’re frozen in place not by fright or terror, but by pure amazement at the being before you. You’d only heard tales like this in stories or legends, so to see an actual mythical being right in front of you is quite frankly mind-blowing. A multitude of questions race through your mind, only for a single one to stand out among the others.

“Do you like, not feel heat? Y’know, being a robot and all.” He pauses, seemingly amused by your question. He ponders an answer, a hand cupping his chin in thought.

“I suppose not, as I have an automated cooling system designed to regulate my temperature so I don’t explode.” He replies simply, reaching his hand down to help you up. “Now, where do you live?”

You part your lips, not giving it much thought when you say your address. Realisation dawns on you when you see the expectant look on his face, your lips pulling into a beam filled with utter glee. “Am I going to ride Fridgey back home??”

He cocks his head, bewildered by the sudden name. “Fridgey, because he’s cold? Like a fridge? Whatever, let’s go!!” You dismiss any questions as you eagerly grab his outstretched hand, awed by how high up you are. Thankfully, the dragon is cold to the touch, an assumption you’d made based purely on Zane’s element.

“I suppose ‘Fridgey’ is a somewhat suitable name.”

“Somewhat? It’s perfect!” You laugh maniacally when he takes off, holding tight to the sides of the saddle as you soar through the sky on a dragon’s back. When else would you ever be able to experience this? “Today is the best. day. ever!!!!”You whoop, daring to lift a single arm to feel the clouds.

Euphoria floods your veins, ignoring the concerned looks Zane sends your way. Breathing in the chilly evening breeze sends a rush of delight down your spine as if injected with morphine.

Nothing can get you down now, not even the soft rock music that begins to play in the back of your mind.

— — — — —

A knock on your bedroom door makes you turn, thankful to be distracted from your assignment. Opening it, however, multiplies the stress tenfold. Emily stands at your door dressed in her usual nightgown, pulling the cardigan around her in an attempt to calm down.

You remain silent, giving her the bare minimum courtesy of not slamming the door in her face at the very least. Waiting proves futile, however, and you’re unable to hold back your eye roll as she drags out what she’s trying to say.

The slight motion of you starting to close the door seems to bring her to her senses, finally revealing her intentions. “How are you feeling? I was so busy during the past few days setting up a new date for the charity fundraiser that I didn’t have the time to check on you.” She asks quickly, perhaps sensing your impatience.

“I’m fine. Look, I’m busy doing my assignments, so what did you want to ask? Besides, my ankle already healed a couple of days ago, so you’re kinda late to the party.” Sarcasm coats each word, unbothered by the hurt that flits across her face.

“I’m sorry…” She says quietly. You sigh, crossing your arms and leaning against the doorway, keeping the door open. It’s an unspoken sign that you’re willing to hear her out, whatever it may be.

She realises this, her eyes lighting up as she seizes the chance. “Do you remember the book I mentioned during the speech? ‘You Complete Me’?” You nod, raising a brow. She moves a concealed hand from behind her back, holding out an object to you.

“I, uh, saved you a copy.” You stare at the book in her hands, recognising the name on the cover as the very book she’s talking about. “I know it’s not your usual genre, but I was hoping maybe you could give it a read sometime…?” Her voice trails off hopefully, looking at you with an almost pleading gaze.

You mull over your options. Accept it and shove it somewhere in your room? Or reject it and get scolded by your dad?

Option one it is.

“Thanks.” You say shortly, taking the book. Delight fills her face, practically beaming when you do. She claps her hands together excitedly. “Let me know what you think when you’re done!” You wave off her words, closing the door behind you.

She’s too happy to be hurt by your actions, and her footsteps bound down the stairs with an enthusiastic note. Sighing, you push the book into a random bookshelf, mentally deleting the memory from your head.

Maybe you can sell it to get some money. You shake off the thought. She’d probably hear about it somehow, and that means your dad would know. You didn’t like the potential argument that would follow.

The book shall remain holed up for all eternity, you decide.

Collapsing back into your bed, you waste no time unlocking your tablet and checking your calendar for tomorrow’s appointments. A visit to the dentist, a quick stop at Papa’s Cakeria, then a quick session at the cafe nearby to finish the assignment you leave unfinished on your desk.

The bakery’s name makes you pause, a finger hovering over the black-coloured tag. Of course, you had to be reminded of your soulmate, now of all times. As if having his music occasionally filling your head still wasn’t horrible, the fact that you’d been overly cautious not to run into him again is a nightmare in itself.

The ninja is always around and about, and you’d already run into Zane a couple of times including earlier today. You’d met Jay once when he helped you get your purse back after a thief tried to run off with it. Well, you say helped, but in reality, he showed up just as you tackled the thief, using a random stick to beat him to a crap.

Thankfully, it seems that Cole is always updated about your location, making sure he’s never in the vicinity. Listening to music helps to gauge the distance, and though you’d never admit it out loud, you’re thankful for this soulmate ‘feature’.

Now though, the memory of your interaction during that night haunts you. Try as you might, you can’t deny that the pan au chocolat was one of the best you’d ever had. You pull up their menu, excitement flooding your veins when you see that they sell a multitude of different cakes, including red velvet. Luckily, orders can be made in person, and the fact that your dad’s birthday is coming up is the perfect excuse to order more.

He did say that you could use his name to speed up an order as a fellow cake enthusiast…

Biting your lip in thought, you decide to take a chance. Besides, what’s the worst that could happen? You’ve already made your disdain for each other evident anyway. It’s just a one-off thing.

Musketeer [ 10:00 PM ]: Hey, it’s your soulmate here. Was just wondering if the offer to speed up an order at Papa’s Cakeria is still valid?

There. Sent. You place your phone screen-side down, unwilling to submit to impatience for his reply. A ding alerts you to a new notification, abandoning all resolve and snatching it up eagerly.

Cake Enthusiast [ 10:03 PM ]: Yeah, of course. I promised after all, even if it’s you

You raise an offended brow, your temper flaring up again as you decide whether to keep being nice. Unfortunately, your love for pastries wins out.

Musketeer [ 10:03 PM ]: That’s a relief. I need to speed up an order for my dad’s birthday cake, and I was wondering if you’d be able to help me with that

You watch the floating bubbles on the screen that indicate him typing a reply, growing frustrated when it takes longer than expected. Is he going to help you or not?

Cake Enthusiast [ 10:07 PM ]: yea sure. What time are you heading there?

Frowning, you type a response, not thinking much of it.

Musketeer [ 10:07 PM ]: idk like 2pm?

Cake Enthusiast [ 10:08 PM ]: ok

Musketeer [ 10:08 PM ]: wait howre you going to help me speed it up??

Cake Enthusiast [ 10:08 PM ]: youll see tmr

“You’ll see tomorrow?” You mutter in bewilderment, about to type a response. However, stubborn pride gets in the way, and you turn off your phone instead, placing it on your bedside table. A chime indicates another message, but you refuse to check it.

Plopping your head onto the pillow with a huff, you try to quell the frustration you can feel building within you. It’s incredible how a short text exchange can get you so worked up over nothing.

“Calm down, he’s already agreed. You’ll get your pastries soon…” You chant to yourself in the form of a mantra, finally calming down fully. Whatever. You’ll find out tomorrow, you suppose. And if not…There’s always your new friend Zane who can pass on a message in your stead.

Satisfied with the thought of potentially exacting revenge, you begin to drift off with a smile.

Only to be interrupted by more soft jazz in your head.

— — — — —

“You’re back.”

Jay pauses his game, glancing over at his friend who’s just gotten out of the shower after returning from patrol. Cole raises a brow, adjusting the towel that hangs low on his waist. He grabs another, starting the process of drying his hair.

“I didn’t get any supper this time if that’s what you’re gonna ask.” He tosses the towel he used to dry his hair at Jay, the latter letting out a screech when it lands on his face. He chuckles, taking his time to scroll through his phone.

“That’s not what I was gonna ask, thank you very much,” Jay huffs, dropping the towel on the floor with a disgusted frown. An excited glint in his eyes is all Cole needs to see before realising that he probably wanted to talk or gossip about something. Probably gossip.

So, he puts down his phone and stares expectantly, waiting silently for his friend to start speaking. True enough, Jay immediately starts to talk about how Nya met someone new, and Master Wu taking in another student. However, the name that slips from Jay’s mouth is the last thing he expects.

“Who?” Jay repeats your name once more with a tilt of his head, not thinking much of it until he sees the baffled look in Cole’s eyes.

“Why? Do you know her?”

“Know her-?!” Cole stops himself from speaking, dragging a hand down his face with a frustrated groan. Every single day without fail he’d keep a wary lookout for your presence, and the moment a single note was played in his mind he’d flee from the area. “N-no, I don’t know her.”

You didn’t want him around, and it was made abundantly clear. But now, as a student of Master Wu, he’d probably get at least some of the ninjas including him to meet her!

Talk about a worst-case scenario.

He’d had just about enough. How is he supposed to get on with his life now? He sighs, wringing his head in his hands and completely forgetting that Jay’s still in the room with him.

“What’s with him?” He recognises the voice as Nya’s, lifting his head to stare blankly at her. Jay shrugs, choosing to resume his game instead of dealing with Cole’s possible mental breakdown.

“At least put some clothes on, damn.” She tosses a shirt at him. He puts it on without comment, running a hand through his damp hair as he tries to figure out how to deal with the bomb that Jay’s brought him.

“Anyway, guess what?” Nya’s chirpy voice distracts him for a moment. “I met someone new today! She’s supposed to be Master Wu’s new student. She seems pretty cool, and Zane said that she’s your age, Cole!”

Screw this. Maybe that invitation for a vacation from Vania is still valid. I could stay there for a week. Maybe a month.

Why is he even feeling this frustrated anyway? He’d done nothing to deserve this. Sure, he was a little rude or cold when you first met, but he had good reason to do so. Besides, he’s pretty sure he’s more than made up for it by quite literally saving your life.

Right?

“Cole? Did you hear me?” Jay shakes his head, nudging Nya’s side as she glances at him with concern.

“I already told him about it, but he pretty much short-circuited when I said her name,” Jay snorts. “You’d think she’s her ex or something-”

“She’s not my ex,” Cole deadpans, glaring at Jay from the corner of his eyes. “She’s just…someone I met before.”

“Ohhh….She’s an ex alright,” Nya whispers loudly with a nod.

Giving up, Cole heads back to his room instead. Trying to reason with them would be futile. His phone buzzes limply, the screen damp from the remaining shower water on his arms. Laying on his bed, he unlocks his phone and scrolls through social media, smiling at a thank you video a few people had made for the ninja.

The image of your figure standing close to him that night at the charity auction flashes through his mind. He tries to push it aside, but his mind keeps drifting to your sly gaze, and the playful smile that played on your lips during your conversation.

The same smile that vanished once you made eye contact with him as the Earth Ninja.

The phone drops to his chest, placing a hand on his face and rubbing it in hopes of curing it of the intolerable pang that resonates at the memory. He never needed a soulmate before, and he definitely didn’t need one now.

The soft fabric of the black shirt settles on his chest, bringing him some form of comfort as he wrestles with his thoughts. If Master Wu’s already accepted you, it just signals an inevitable meeting.

May as well start trying to be amicable somehow, so that no one can figure out the connection between you both.

But how?

As he tries to find a solution that would ease all his worries, the phone vibrates loudly. Picking it up, a text notification from you makes his heart drop. He slams the phone back down onto his chest, eyes wide.

Is this a sign?

Musketeer [ 10:00 PM ]: Hey, it’s your soulmate here. Was just wondering if the offer to speed up an order at Papa’s Cakeria is still valid?

Oh, that’s right. He processes the message, remembering that he had promised before the whole theft incident took place. He sends a quick agreement, though rereading it makes him wince.

Musketeer [ 10:03 PM ]: That’s a relief. I need to speed up an order for my dad’s birthday cake, and I was wondering if you’d be able to help me with that

Cake Enthusiast [ 10:03 PM ]: ok

He deletes the message, trying different variations of agreement before finally settling on one that he decides isn’t hostile-sounding or rude. Pausing, an idea hits him. His fingers hover above the screen, barely touching the keypad. The moment of hesitation doesn’t last long, however, when he finds himself typing a response and sending it faster than he can process.

Cake Enthusiast [ 10:07 PM ]: yea sure. What time are you heading there?

Musketeer [ 10:07 PM ]: idk like 2pm?

Is he really about to take the risk? What if you grow to hate him even more? He sighs. What is there to lose? If you leave, so be it. If you never see each other again, so be it. At the very least, maybe you’d be able to reach some form of an agreement to keep things civil between you two.

Cake Enthusiast [ 10:08 PM ]: ok

Musketeer [ 10:08 PM ]: wait howre you going to help me speed it up??

Cake Enthusiast [ 10:08 PM ]: youll see tmr

He sends another thumbs up before placing the phone on his bedside table to charge. Looks like he’ll be postponing tomorrow’s patrol.

#ninjago #lego ninjago #cole brookestone #cole brookstone x reader #cole x reader #ninjago x reader #cole ninjago #lego ninjago x reader #cole brookstone x female reader #cole brookstone #ninjago cole

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dreaming-of-lu · 7 months

Text

A thought that I shared with a couple of mutuals, cause I cannot shut up about Stardew Valley right now. Imma mix mash my favs together and make y'all spiral with me.

You, the only beloved grandchild of your grandfather, was given a letter by your grandfather who was on his last leg, filled with information regarding his left behind farm and cottage in your name. He told you when the day comes that when you've grown tired of the city and yearn for a life free from the shackles of the ever growing demand of corporates and nonstop hustle bustle. The farm and cottage will be waiting until you are ready. Years passed and of course, you become tired, exactly what your grandfather told you would. With no thoughts to spare to the city you left behind and little clothes on your back. Quitting your job, you head towards Pelican Town.

The mayor was friendly, save for the carpenter that definitely made you laugh until she made a jab at your grandfather's cottage. While you could agree, since it's honestly not much, yet you'll make do with what you got for now and add things on later. However, the slight pang went through your heart at the disrespect she gave to him. Before the mayor could set off, he highly encouraged you to introduce yourself to the entire town. He then goes over with you about the shipping container, what to put in there while handing you a sack filled with parsnip seeds. He also gestures to the tools he was able to get you that were sitting on the porch, with a wordless pat of good luck, he sets off down the road back to the town.

MEET OUR BACHELORS

First: Single (Bachelor)

Meeting First was quite quick since the man was known to be busy and quite on the run to get things done before heading back to the adventurer's guild that his great uncle runs. He was short in his greetings to you and apologized swiftly that he had to be somewhere.

It may not seem like it, but this man is definitely a poet with words. Chivalrous, that had his great uncle playfully rolling his eyes at his nephew.

Yet there's something underlying mysterious about him that drew you in to him. Perhaps you should gift him things and get to know him a little more better!

Sky: Single (Bachelor)

The eldest son of the carpenter! He lives down southeast of Lon Lon Ranch. He's the absolute sweetest person you've ever met in your entire life. The bright smile on his sleepy face had you mentally cooing at him.

He carves, paints, builds little bird houses just like what his mother use to do. He definitely decorates his home each time the season changes, it's so damn adorable.

He's single due to a breakup that did not end on good terms unfortunately. While he still respect her, however, there are things that were said that ended up hurting the other.

Four: Single (Bachelor)

The grandson of the blacksmith. He was working behind the counter when your fresh face entered the shop. Obviously, a little put off since not many people tend to flock to Pelican Town. He's a bit shy yet he makes small talk just to get to know you better. Until his grandfather emerged and the look on his face had him laughing.

Yeah, he ain't laughing anymore when his grandfather told him 'that's the kid you used to play with all the time when you were younger.'

He takes the tools you got and upgrades them or process the geodes that you tend to bring in.

Time: Single (Bachelor)

The working left hand man of Lon Lon Ranch. This man scared the absolute shit out of you when he showed up on your front porch that morning. To open a door to a towering, one eye, scarred man was not on your bingo card of shit you witness while living here.

He was straight to the point of who to come to when buying animals whenever you get your barn and coop up n going.

He's someone you want to be careful around, an anger you do not want aimed towards you. That mask you saw sitting on his belt felt ominous. He's hard to get warm up to.

Twilight: Single (Bachelor)

You were just planting the parsnip seeds when you heard a bark come from behind you and yelling from someone telling to 'Come back!' A black and white dog ran up on your porch with its tail wagging a mile a minute. A cute dirty blonde haired male came jogging up with an exasperated look before realizing you were the new farmer there.

He was embarrassed yet quickly introduced himself. The adopted son of Uli and Rusl's, the older brother to Colin and his soon to be born little sister. He also works at Lon Lon Ranch.

He's hiding something.

Hyrule: Single (Bachelor)

The doctor of the town. A shy sweetheart that introduced himself to you after you came in due to an already early incident on the farm. He scolds you gently for doing something stupid and rash.

May or may not have told you one day that he wasn't getting enough patients which affected his pay heavily.

Man has unprocessed trauma.

Wild: Single (Bachelor)

He runs the saloon, all by himself, save for his friend Flora does tend to come help him to keep things smooth and sailing when it gets packed. He was friendly enough to introduce himself to you when seeing you pass him on your way to Ravio's General Store.

He def encouraged you to take a load off once and awhile to relax in his Saloon.

He doesn't remember his old life, it seems like he doesn't want to either way.

Warriors: Single (Bachelor)

The older brother to Wind and Aryll. House is on the beach and he's dramatic as hell yet he comes in later on year 2 of your life on the farm. He introduced himself first thing in the morning and he's a bit stiff about it.

He's the only soldier(?) in Pelican Town and ties to the city, he seems so tired and run down honestly.

He's doing his absolute best to raise Wind and Aryll after the funeral of their grandmother.

Legend: Single (Bachelor)

The lone wizard that "summoned" you to his tower to gift you the language of the Junimos. Just to be able to easily translate the language and to fix up the community center.

His sassy attitude def threw you off yet he's standoffish. Only asking you of things he needed from the mines.

He seems to be mourning something.

Ravio: Single???

The owner of Ravio's General Store. The sight of his bunny ear hat sat upon his head was the first thing that caught your eyes. His eagerness to greet you while showing you the package of seeds he was given, showing off the wares he gotten.

The sight of his broken heart made yours clench when one of the workers of Joja mart came in and declared loudly that things were on sale for 50% off. He's trying his best, but the income is needed.

Is finding ways to take down Joja Mart

-TO BACHELORETTES (To be added at some point-

#linked universe x reader #.bea's writing #lu x reader #linkeduniverse x reader #linked universe #link x reader #lu time x reader #lu first x reader #lu legend x reader #lu sky x reader #lu four x reader #lu twilight x reader #lu warriors x reader #lu wild x reader #lu hyrule x reader #ravio x reader #loz x reader #loz link x reader

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saturnville · 10 months

Text

in the dirty south.

pairing: cowboy!coriolanus snow x black fem oc. warnings: old slang, sexual innuendo, flirting, sorta forbidden infatuation if you blink. shy!oc. content: while at a town fair with her family, delilah finds herself heavily infatuated with the new face in town. an: the people have spoken. cowboy!coriolanus is here. definitely called on my grandmother's southern roots for this so be prepared. I don't know who started cowboy!coriolanus, but all respect and credit to the individual who did. please let me know what y'all think of this!

tags: @snowlandsontopp @babyzzlove @hlstead @rosewine-5 @unicornqueen05 @thegabbyh @neeville @fastlikealambo @urfavesim to keep your spot on the tag list, you are expected to interact!

Outside visiters were not a common occurance the city. The town was small and everybody knew everybody. One would be a fool to think anything that occured in their lives wouldn't be common knowledge to the inhabitants of the town. She wished she had the same type of delusion.

Once every few months, the mayor of the town found it suitable to host a fair. Something to ease the growing tensions between the families and to usher in a type of fun no one had seen since the rebellions took place.

She wouldn't say she didn't enjoy the fairs, but she knew there were other ways to spend her time aside from handing out freshly baked slices of poundcake and a cup of milk, courtesy of her mother and grandmother.

"Delilah! It's time to go, baby." Her mother's voice was rough like gravel yet soothing like silk. Everyone called her comparison foolish, as they didn't understand. But, until they felt the way her words calmed their soul like a newborn being rocked by its mother, they never would.

Delilah hollered back, "Comin', mama!" She stood in front of the mirror--dingy and stained from being passed down from her great-great-grandmother, and so short that she had to stand on her toes to see her full outfit. Her hands swiped over the fabric of her dress. It was new; her grandmother spent 3 weeks making it. A corset dress as bright as the dust that left her shoulders exposed to the kisses of the sun. She smiled at her reflection and pushed her hair away from her face. She shoved her feet into her boots and ran down the stairs.

Delilah questioned if they arrived late or if everyone else arrived early in anticipation. She bobbed and weaved through the sea of black and brown with a smile on her face. Small "pardon mes" and "excuse mes" poured from her lips like water as she attempted not to knock anyone over with her basket.

She followed her mother like a lost puppy to their assigned tent. Right next to Uncle Turner's barbeque restauraunt and the bathroom. Perfect, she said to herself. Lucille dropped the basket against the wood table and began plucking out the tablecloth and napkins.

"Lilah, I'm gon' grab some pitchers of water inside Turner's. I'll be back shortly." Mama's lips turned upward with a soft smile. Delilah nodded and continued her setting up the table.

Beads of sweat gathered at her forehead and her brown skin stung under the gaze of a burning sun. God, she hoped they wouldn't be outside for 10 hours like they were the last time. She couldn't sworn she melted like an ice cream cone within an hour.

Delilah hummed a church hymn to herself and tossed the basket behind her. She plopped down on the ragged bench and crossed her legs just as her mother taught her years ago, folded her hands over her lap, and watched as people walked passed.

People watching was one of her favorite pasttimes. To her left was a young girl riding on her wooden rocking horse, squealing with glee. To her right was a group of young boys tackling each other to the ground as their mother hollered for them to quit roughhousing. Delilah giggled.

She raised her eyes and jerked backward when she saw a group of men walking past. Four of them to be exact. Three were familiar faces: Elijah, Malachi, and Ezra. The boys whom she grew up with. They used to sleep in the same bed together when their mothers worked at the restaurant late at night. But, there was another one she'd never seen before.

He was unfamiliar. There were a few white boys sprinkled here and there, but in her town, it wasn't a frequent occurance. He seemed comfortable, too, with a boyish smirk on his face as he made the boys' head fly back with glee.

She could tell his hands were strong by the way they latched around the harness that allowed him to control the beautiful horse he rode upon. She looked around and saw other women eyeing the stranger. Who was he?

The man slid off the horse and tied the harness against a stake, and followed the men as they approached her mother's tent. His eyes were curious as they examined his surroundings. Delilah brushed the loose curls away from her face and smiled. "Hi, boys."

A series of disgruntled greetings came from them as they padded around the bench to engulf Delilah in a hug. The stranger stayed in front of her, eyes narrow.

"Where's Mama?" Elijah asked. His green eyes searched for the middle-aged woman.

"She's in Turner's getting some water. Might as well help her while you're lookin' for her," Delilah suggested with a shrug. She could feel icy eyes on her. "She'll mess around and drop them tryin' to do the most. Go catch up to her."

"Delilah," said Malachi. "This is Coriolanus. We, uh, we go back. Old friends. We're gon' help, Mama, but Lilah, don't scare him off." Delilah met his eyes. "I won't."

The boys shuffled off to the restaurant to find her mother, which left Delilah in the presence of Coriolanus. It was unique. She'd never heard anything like it. It sounded prestigious, elite.

He was handsome. Messy curls underneath his hat. Strong stature covered by a thick long-sleeve shirt and vest. Her gaze dropped to his belt. Brown with a holster that held, what she assumed was, a fully loaded pistol. And his boots, worn, dirty, and scuffed, just like hers. A country boy.

"Delilah. Nice to meet you, Mr. Coriolanus." Delilah extended her hand slowly. Coriolanus turned his head to the side. Her hands were slender and her nailbeds were painted a blood red. His tongue danced over his tooth.

"No need for that, darling. Nice to meet you," he replied, gently shaking her hand. His hand was much bigger in hers. Calloused like he wrestled animals in the wilderness. Strong like they'd hold her body upright with ease. His eye contact was strong and he could feel it melting her chocolate orbs away.

When he spoke, she noticed that his accent was nowhere as thick as her own, but a southern twang was laced in his words. Almost like he'd been taught. "Where are you from?" To keep herself from getting weak in the knees, she decided to start setting out the serving ware for the cake. Coriolanus' eyes followed her every action.

"Up north," he replied shortly. "Got in a bit of a mess. Decided to come down south for a while."

Delilah hummed and pulled the lid off the poundcake. Its glaze glistened underneath the sun. Just like her. Coriolanus chuckled to himself. "Do you like it?" She looked up at him through her eyelids.

She was so beautiful. He'd seen his fair share of pretty women since being placed in a new District. But she, Lord, this Delilah was something different. She was short in stature with strong shoulders and hips that were not well hidden beneath her dress. She had a cute smile that was covered by full, cherry colored lips. And her hair, so coily and full in a bun upon her head.

Coriolanus ran his tongue over his bottom lip and nodded. "I like it a lot."

Delilah detected the tone of his voice and fought the urge to smile. "I'm glad that's the case."

It was difficult for Delilah to keep her eyes off Coriolanus. Where he moved, her eyes followed. When he spoke to another woman and charmed her with his smile and bright eyes, she felt a twing of jealousy hit. Then, she'd call herself foolish for even being the slightest bit possessive over a man she'd only known for five hours.

She did her best to keep herself preoccupied with the poundcake in front of her. It worked for the most part, until the bench wobbled by the weight of another. Delilah turned to her left and found Coriolanus leaned against the side. "Can I join you, pretty?"

Pretty. Delilah's body warmed as she nodded. Coriolanus swung his leg over the side of the bench and took a seat. His clothed thigh brushed against her exposed once, causing her leg to jump slightly. He noticed, but chose not to say anything.

"You enjoying the fair?" Coriolanus asked.

"Yeah. It's always a fun time. Plus the food is great, too." She raised her fork that held a piece of cake on it. "Have you tried the poundcake? My mama makes the best ever."

Coriolanus shook his head. Delilah gathered a piece on the fork and held it out with the intention for him to pluck it off, but she was shocked when his full lips wrapped around the edge of the fork. His eyes were trained on hers. A gasp fell from her lips.

He hummed softly. "Delicious." He prepared to spur her on further, finding amusement in her disheveled state, but was called back by Elijah. "I'm comin'!. Save some for me later, darlin'. I'll see you later, alright?"

Delilah nodded and bit her lip. "Alright."

He threw her a wink and walked away. He was far from done with her.

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gegengestalt · 5 months

Text

131 useless or often forgotten facts in The Brothers Karamazov!

This 27 of April is the second anniversary of the day I finished this book for the first time. To do something special, I reread it over the last 20 days and as I did it, I compiled little things that are easy to forget in these 1000 pages filled with food for thought. Let's go!

1. Mitya fought in a duel, though it's most likely that nobody died in it.

2. Ivan's journalist pseudonym is "Eyewitness".

3. Alyosha, in his own words, came back to Skotoprigonyevsk to visit his mother's grave.

4. Fyodor Pavlovich owns several taverns in the district.

5. Grigory was the one who gave Sofia Ivanovna a proper gravestone.

6. Alyosha is one deduction away from becoming a communist.

7. The Brothers Karamazov begins in late August.

8. Kalganov is supposedly Alyosha's friend. This is never mentioned ever again.

9. Kalganov gave one coin to some beggars and told them to divide it among themselves.

10. There is a rumour that the previous elder beat people with sticks. This is false.

11. Alyosha is the only person in the monastery who knows that Rakitin is an atheist, and keeps his secret.

12. Four years ago, Pyotr Miusov divulged a fake story about a saint making out with his own decapitated head. Fyodor never forgot.

13. Madame Khokhlakov is only 33 years old. She has been a widow for 5 years, meaning Lise lost her father at age 9.

14. Zosima's serenity in front of the woman who confesses to a murder may foreshadow his later recollection of having a murder confessed to before.

15. Zosima likes to make jokes.

16. Lise and Alyosha last saw each other two years before.

17. Reminder that Grushenka met Mitya because Fyodor wanted her help to throw Mitya into a debtors' prison.

18. Kuzma Samsonov is the mayor of Skotoprigonyevsk.

19. Ivan rambled to Dmitri and Katerina about how he thinks Rakitin will be a failed journalist turned landlord.

20. Fyodor Pavlovich's house is filled with rats.

21. The Miusov family had their own private theatre.

22. Lizaveta Smerdyashchaya was a bit over 142cm/4'7 tall.

23. In 1842 there was a runaway convict called Karp commiting crimes in Skotoprigonyevsk.

24. Marya Kondratievna's mother is missing a leg.

25. Mitya ghosted a girl in real life.

26. Katerina's mother died when she was young.

27. Mitya had a fever for two weeks once because of a spider bite.

28.Mitya thought Grushenka was "nothing striking" the first time he saw her.

29. Mitya was squatting in his neighbour's rented room.

30. Fyodor Pavlovich has a portrait of the former provincial governor in his house.

31. Fyodor Pavlovich goes to sleep at 3- 4AM, like Dostoyevsky himself.

32. Sofia Ivanovna was being courted by a rich man called Beliavsky while she was married.

33. Who was the woman coming from the alley that Mitya mistook for Grushenka? I still wonder.

34. A cheap glass jar was destroyed during Mitya's frenzied break- in.

35. Katerina sends two detailed reports a week to her surrogate mother figure who lives in Moscow.

36. Katerina has an aquarium.

37. Alyosha sleeps using his monk habit as a blanket.

38. Father Ferapont survives eating nothing more than 1,6kg of bread a week.

39. Ivan had told his father about his feelings for Katerina, for some reason.

40. When Alyosha kissed his father, he had the impression that Alyosha was thinking that it was their last conversation.

41. Madame Khokhlakova owns three houses as property.

42. Madame Khokhlakova and Katerina Ivanovna are supposedly great friends.

43. Ivan reads Schiller when nobody is looking.

44. One of Snegiryov's daughters, Varvara, is invested in feminism.

45. Captain Snegiryov's childhood friend is a lawyer.

46. Mitya spilled cognac over the table of the summerhouse.

47. Smerdyakov sings in falsetto.

48. Marya Kondratievna is the only one who ever calls Smerdyakov 'Pavel Fyodorovich'.

49. Ivan uses Smerdyakov as a messenger.

50. Dmitri and Katerina had been engaged for around six months.

51. Ivan's right shoulder looks lower than the left one when he walks.

52. Smerdyakov often moves the tip of his right foot from side to side when he stands (adorable).

53. Dmitri's favourite death threats are "pounding in a mortar" and "breaking legs".

54. Grigory suffers from paralysis three times a year.

55. The real name of 'Lyagavy' is Gorstkin.

56. Zosima's real name is "Zinovy".

57. There was actually another old German doctor before Herzenstube and he was named Eisenschmidt.

58. Zosima has known Brother Anfim for forty years.

59. The Bible is thrown once.

60. Madame Khokhlakova asked Rakitin to go to the funeral as her eye.

61. Alyosha was hiding behind the grave of starets Iov, who lived 105 years.

62. Zosima was harshly criticized for telling a monk hallucinating to take his meds if praying doesn't work.

63. Both Grushenka and Rakitin are children of deacons.

64. Samsonov is the only person that Grushenka seems to be completely and clearly sincere with.

65. Likewise, Samsonov only trusts her when it comes to counting money.

66. Samsonov has the entire first floor of his house for himself.

67. Mitya tells many of his secrets to his landlords, who are fond of him.

68. Alongside eggs and bread, Mitya grabbed and ate a piece of sausage that he "found".

69. Mitya and Perkhotin first met at the Metropolis tavern.

70. Mitya's dueling pistols are his "most prized possessions".

71. Madame Khokhlakova apparently borrows money from Miusov.

72. The brass pestle was 17 centimetres long.

73. Mitya spent exactly 300 rubles in food and alcohol in Mokroye, and it would have been 400 if Perkhotin didn't help.

74. Mitya gave a glass of champagne to a kid.

75. The owner of Plotnikov's shop is called Varvara Alexeievna.

76. Two thousand villagers live in Mokroye.

77. Trifon Borissovich makes his younger daughters clean up the messes of every guest of the inn.

78. Pan Wroblewski is 190cm / 6'2 tall.

79. Madame Khokhlakova gets a migraine whenever she has to talk to Mitya.

80. The ispravnik's elder granddaughter is called Olga, and the night of the murder was her birthday.

81. The prosecutor's wife seems very interested in sending for Mitya often, for reasons he doesn't know.

82. Mitya does not know that the epidermis is the outer layer of the skin.

83. Nikolay Parfenovich is the only person in the world who trusts Ippolit Kirillovich.

84. Mitya often dreams that a person that he fears is chasing him and searching for him.

85. Nikolay Parfenovich wears a smoky topaz ring on his middle finger.

86. Pan Wroblewski is a dentist without a license.

87. Kalganov had visited Grushenka once before, but she seemed to dislike him for some reason.

88. Kolya's father died when he was a little baby.

89. There was a plot going on in the background about the doctor's maid having a child out of wedlock.

90. Rakitin often talks with Kolya. Seems like the only person who takes his ideas seriously is a literal child.

91. Smerdyakov and Ilyusha met and talked to each other.

92. Alyosha rarely gets colds.

93. Katerina befriended Snegiryov's sick wife.

94. Kolya was taken to a judge for teaching a guy how to efficiently crack the neck of a goose.

95. Kolya is against women's rights.

96. Mitya and Grushenka spent five weeks secluded and away from each other after the arrest.

97. Grushenka went to see Grigory to try to convince him that the door wasn't open.

98. Rakitin made up in an article that Madame Khokhlakova offered Mitya 3k rubles to run away with her.

99. Madame Khokhlakova doesn't remember Rakitin's patronymic, and calls him "Ivanovich" instead of "Osipovich".

100. Madame Khokhlakova didn't know of the judicial system reform until two days before the trial.

101. Lise sent chocolates to Mitya in jail, even though there's no reference to them ever interacting before.

102. Alyosha has had the same dream about the devils that Lise has.

103. Alyosha is friends with the jail inspector, who often discusses the gospels with him.

104. Mitya spent two entire nights awake since he discovered ethics.

105. Ivan cleans his own room.

106. Smerdyakov shared a hospital room with an agonizing dropsy patient.

107. Mitya's letter had the bill on the other side.

108. Smerdyakov uses garters with his stockings.

109. There is an apple tree in Fyodor's garden.

110. One of Ivan's "most stupid" thoughts is being the fat wife of a merchant.

111. Ivan had a friend named Korovkin when he was 17, the one he told the story of the quadrillion kilometres to.

112. Ivan has another poem named Geological Cataclysm.

113. Alyosha was the first person the distraught Marya Kondratievna ran to.

114. Ivan is mistaken for "the eldest son" twice in the trial.

115. Grigory did not remember he was in 1866.

116. Rakitin knows "every detail" of the biography of Fyodor Pavlovich and all the Karamazovs.

117. Grushenka's surname, Svetlova, means "light".

118. Mitya once dropped 100 rubles while he was drunk.

119. Ivan saw not just the Devil, but people who had died while he walked in the street.

120. Ippolit Kirillovich died nine months after the trial, the first and last day he received applauses.

121. Marfa is dismissed as a suspect simply because they can't imagine her killing.

122. There is a partition wall in Mitya's lodgings.

123. Mitya mostly stopped staring at the floor during the prosecutor's speech whenever Grushenka was mentioned.

124. Fetyukovich bends forward in an unnerving manner when he speaks.

125. An 18 year old street vendor committed axe murder earlier that year.

126. The verdict was given past 1AM, making the trial last almost 16 hours.

127. Katerina kept the sick Ivan in her house knowing it could possibly be harmful to her reputation.

128. Rakitin tried to sneak in to see Mitya in the hospital twice.

129. Lise sent the flowers that adorn Ilyusha's coffin, and Katerina paid for the grave.

130. Snegiryov cries seeing his late son's little boots the same way one of the women at the monastery in the beginning of the book did.

131. At the end, Alyosha mentions "leaving the city for a long time" soon. Where to? We don't know.

If you read this far down, I hope you enjoyed it as much as I enjoyed writing all of these down.

#the brothers karamazov #fyodor dostoyevsky #I had made a thread on twt about this but decided to post it all at once on tumblr

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lady-bess · 2 months

Text

Miller's Mountainous Adventure Park - A Secret Springs Activity!

Joel Miller x F!Reader Words: 1.8k Mature (references to sex - minors DNI please!) Tags: Joel Miller!Adventure Guide, Rope Climbing, Tree-top Assault Course, Protective!Joel, Flirty!Joel, Shameful Flirting, Joel is an ass-man in my canon, References to Sex, Reader is definitely scared of heights, and Joel fkin knows it, Explicit Language.

My contribution to @secretelephanttattoo's Secret Springs project! Submitting a short one-shot showcasing our beloved Mr. Miller being a treetop adventure park guide for week four's prompt, 'See, Stay, & Do'. Big thanks to our mayor for giving me this prompt! Enjoy! 🥰

A/N: This was heavily based off a recent trip to a similar adventure park I went to not long ago, in which I sustained rope burns on my arms from going down the zip-line a bit too quickly. I also got stuck in the middle of one of the horizontal lines and was suspended mid-air for a good 20 minutes while a member of staff had to come rescue me. Alas, it was not Joel who turned up...

Miller’s Mountainous Activity Park

“Climbing walls, bungee jumps, and zip lines - Miller’s has it all! Come along for fabulous views, a day of laughs, and fun challenges for all!”

The advert for this place seemed appealing at the time when you booked it. You’d been wanting to challenge yourself to try different things, instead of your usual tendency to resign yourself to your own little bubble of introvertedness. That’s what this whole trip was about, anyway. Booked on a bit of a whim after your recent breakup, you had told yourself that this time you were not going to allow yourself to wallow in self-pity, and instead you’d have fun as a singleton.

But now, several rounds of activities later, you felt like you were ready to throw in the towel and say fuck new experiences. You were tired, exhausted after an afternoon of group orienteering activities, climbing walls, treetop walkways, and rope courses. Your legs felt like they were about to give way after you’d just climbed your eighth rope ladder in the last hour, and you’d never felt so unfit in your entire life.

Which was great for your self esteem, as you stood panting at the top of the platform, panting like a dog in heat.

“Fuckin’ hell,” you whispered to yourself while you caught your breath, but you took relief in the fact that it was almost over. Standing up tall, you were finally at the highest point of the course. From here, you could see out across Secret Springs, and admire the views - the tops of every building, filled with all the independent businesses you’d ventured to throughout your stay here this summer; the rolling hills and stunning views that surrounded the town; and even the mayor’s office, who you understood took great pride in the community they’d built - a pride you felt with them. You knew that the pain from this activity park was fleeting, but the memories you’d gain from being here were forever.

Part of you never wanted to leave.

“Y’allright, darlin’?” came a sultry drawl from behind you that made your hair stand on end. You jumped slightly, then turned to meet eyes with the instructor who had been taking you and the rest of your group around the whole park - Joel.

“Sorry, just admiring the view!” you said, smiling sweetly at him. He nodded, stepping closer to you, holding onto his guidelines and keeping them secure.

“You sure that’s all it is, doll?” he asked.

Your eyes danced down to watch him fiddle with the clasps on his safety lines, twisting the caps on one line at a time before re-attaching it to the line you were also fastened to. He coughed subtly when he noticed your wandering gaze and a lack of response.

“I-uh, yeah! Why?” you asked.

Joel shrugged, chuckling to himself as he finished detaching his lines from the rope ladder safety guideline and securing himself next to you on the platform. He was now able to get closer, and he approached you slowly, bringing one hand up to rest on your shoulder in a kind of comfort.

“Just a hunch. I’ve done a lot of these tours - you wouldn’t be the first person to chicken out of doing the final zip wire,” he said, a small grin on his face.

He clearly loved his job, but he perhaps loved watching how you squirmed underneath him even more. Even in spite of how unfit you felt, and who knows how God awful you looked after hours of physically demanding challenges with a group of people you didn’t know, Joel had kept close to you the entire time. At first you thought it was just because you weren’t here with anyone else, with the rest of your group being made up of couples, or small groups of friends. But the more you’d gone round the course, the more he’d hung back to chat with you; all the while throwing in small physical touches, flirtatious banter, but never overstepping.

You’d be lying if you said you hated it. In truth, it was rather welcome.

“Oh! That…,” you trailed off, your eyes now moving to dare look down at the final challenge remaining. You’d been so distracted by the views that you’d completely missed every other person already completing the 200-metre zip wire that stood between you and finishing the course. It was now just you and Joel stood here in the trees, the distant chatter of the rest of the group unbuckling themselves from their harnesses and heading off being just a faint noise.

“Yes, that,” he chuckled, “Nervous?”.

“A little, I guess. But I’ll be fine! You go ahead, Joel. I’m sure the rest of the group are waiting for your instruction,” you smiled. Joel squeezed your shoulder slightly harder and shook his head, his eyes never faltering.

“They’ll be fine. My brother is on hand at the bottom to get everyone out. You, darlin’, are my priority,” he said.

You felt a shiver run down your spine, and you weren’t entirely sure if it was the anxiety of the oncoming zip line, or horniness from that damn pet name he seemed to only use for you, which somehow lit a fire underneath you in a way your ex had never quite managed. Either way, you were nervous.

“I am?” you stammered.

“Yeah,” he drawled, “That okay?”.

“Y-yes,” you swallowed, hard. Even if he did just mean from a professional point of view, that he couldn’t legally leave you up here alone, you didn’t feel like that was where he was coming from.

“Good,” he said. “Tell you what, I’ll sweeten the deal for ya,” he said, his hand now dropping to the fastening on your harness. His fingers glided over the buckles, tugging them slightly to make sure they were still in their proper place after so much activity. The force moved you ever closer to him, and suddenly you found yourself mere inches from his body. The only thing that snapped you out of the trance of watching Joel, and made you realise he’d asked you something, was the sound of your safety lines clanging together on the guideline above you.

“How so?” you asked. Joel winked at you.

“You get your cute butt down that zipline in the next two minutes, and I’ll take ya out for dinner, darlin’,” he chuckled.

You couldn’t hold back the small giggle as Joel began detaching your safety lines one by one to the main zip wire, taking extra care in making sure that they were attached properly. He’d given everyone a crash course on fastening their own lines before you even started, and everyone had got the hang of it by the time you reached the main course - so this extra attention was definitely not because he didn’t think you could do it. No, he wanted to make sure you were secure himself.

And something about that was quite arousing.

“I have a cute butt?” you asked, acting like you weren’t relieved you’d picked the good leggings to do this course the second you’d seen how cute your instructor was. Joel laughed lowly behind you, with you now facing the descending zip-line, him tugging on your lines to make sure you were fastened in properly.

“Sure, that’s what you focus on,” his words skimmed the shell of your ear, and his strong hands landed on your waist from behind. You sucked in a breath at the closeness, and the feeling of warmth that seeped into your body from his touch. It was a kind of comfort mixed with a desire to say screw dinner, come back to my hotel.

“Yes, you have a cute butt. But you also have a beautiful smile, a gorgeous laugh, and a personality I’d very much like to get to know a bit better,” he said, his voice now lower and almost a whisper behind you. “Is that alright?”.

“Joel, I’m only here for another week, and then I’m gone. What’s in it for you?” you asked.

“Darlin’, I’d like to make your last week here the most memorable. Pay no heed to ‘what’s in it for me’. I wanna spend time with ya, and live in the moment a bit more, starting with taking you out tonight. How does that sound?”.

The smallest bit of guilt crept into you at the thought that Joel was willing to spend the next week with you only to then potentially never see you again. There was a nagging voice in your head that still wanted to say no to him, even after he’d made it clear that he didn’t care about the ‘what ifs’ and what would come after you would leave for home next week.

But then you remembered why you came here. To push yourself, to live outside your comfort zone - the old you might have insisted on saying no, but you did wonder how many opportunities you’d missed in your life by playing it safe.

“Okay,” you said, “I’d like that, Joel.”

You turned your head to smile at him, and were greeted with his soft brown eyes firmly on yours. He flashed a cheeky grin back at you, then leant in and quickly gave you a peck on the cheek. The scruff of his facial hair brushed against your soft skin, and it was over far too soon.

“Good,” he chucked, “Now, off you go!” he said, tapping your ass and pushing your lines down the zip wire, setting you on course for the ground. You screamed and laughed as your body dipped off the platform and you were sent careering down the line at a rate of knots, the wind rushing through your hair and the horizon disappearing behind the treetops as you got closer to the landing platform on the ground.��

You could hear the faint laughter of Joel in the distance as he unclipped his wires and got ready to go down after you once you’d landed, and even while rushing down the line you could feel your cheeks burn as a teenage-like crush began making itself known. It might not be anything, but you wouldn’t know until you tried.

You crash landed at the bottom of the line, your heels digging into the bark-coated flooring to slow you down, but you still unceremoniously landed on your ass. With nobody around, you let yourself flop down onto your back, still attached to the line, and let out a laugh. Your whole body ached, and you’d now definitely need a shower before going out with Joel tonight. But you didn’t care about that. You were happy.

And, for the first time, you felt free.

Liked this? Check out my Masterlist!

#pedro pascal #fanfiction #fanfic #joel miller #the last of us #secret springs #see stay and do #writing challenge #writing prompt #fluff #flirty #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal character fanfic #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #reader insert #pre/no outbreak

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lilywastaken · 1 year

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LILY.

THE WITCH AND WITCH HUNTER???

oh my godddd.

can we get a little more of simon and his witch at her cottage? i’d sob

i'm so glad you guys liked it!!! it was just word vomit i spat out while i was waiting for food but I just loved the idea too much 😭!

and of course, here!!

first part of this idea!

"'m fine. i told you." simon grunted as he collapsed onto your rickety bed, the mattress dipping beneath his weight. "jus' a scratch."

you huffed, dipping a piece of cloth into the bucket of clean water you'd just gotten before turning to the large gash up his leg, blood trickling down and staining his fair skin pink.

that's something you'd noticed after the time you'd spent treating all of his wounds, he was very pale below all the consistent layers of clothes he insisted upon wearing, you couldn't even imagine what his face must look like after the lack of sunlight he was forcing his body to go through.

but it was cute, you supposed. sometimes when you treated a wound up near his neck, he'd be forced to pull his hood up, exposing his jugular vein and the itchy starts of a beard, and letting you see the way his skin warmed up in heat and colour when your fingertips grazed his skin, acting like you hadn't seen the way he swallowed out of what you assumed were nerves, and fighting back the urge to just lean up to kiss the exposed parts of his impressive jawline.

"you're clearly not fine, si." you talked back, waving your hands back and forth to usher him to lie down, letting you access his wound easier (although you were quite aware that he didn't mind seeing you kneeling in front of him), sitting down on the soft covers and pressing the wet towel to the cut. "you should've told me you were going out... i told you the forest was dangerous, you should've taken me with you."

your free hand came up to land on the unharmed part of his leg, running a thumb over the skin there in an attempt to calm down the pain you knew was undoubtedly rushing through his body.

he grunted, turning his head away from you to stare at your wall instead, arms crossed over his chest like an infuriated child that had just been caught doing something wrong.

while he looked away, you removed the now blood stained towel, looking to simon to make sure he wasn't looking before running a finger around the wound, uttering a few quiet words in latin before the swelling started to go down, the blood surrounding the wound drying up and speeding up the healing.

"feel better?" you smiled as he turned to look at you, having noticed the sudden lack of pain. "just a little something, don't worry, none of those fancy creams." you remembered how weirdly the four witch hunters had looked at you when the mayor had brought up the many remedies you had at your cottage, luckily none of them catching on to the true nature behind the miraculous recoveries that occured inside the flimsy walls of your home.

"...yeah." he huffed out, throwing his head back onto your pillow and closing his eyes, obstructing the only view you had of his face thanks to his mask. "thanks."

"that's all i get?" you teased, pulling his pant leg back down and moving away from the mattress, taking the towel with you to clean.

"what else d'you want? can't give you money." he grunted, bringing up how he'd tried insisting on paying you after you'd stitched up a wound, but you'd told him it was on the house, just like all the other following times.

"i don't know. a more enthusiastic thank you?" you hummed, walking back towards him after letting the towel to soak and sitting on the free spot of the bed right next to his head, fingers coming down to run over the scrunch between both of his eyebrows.

"...thank you." he repeated, opening his eyes and turning on his side to look at you, arm coming up to wrap around you waist, pulling you closer to him, letting him rest his head against your hip, breathing in shakily as he took in your floral scent.

"that's better." you soothed, bringing your hand down to remove his hood and play with his hair, smiling as he shuddered. "you're welcome, si."

he fell asleep shortly after, leaving you warm and worried about what would happen in the nearby future, aware that despite the clear affection you both had for each other, that wouldn't stop him if he found out about... well...

you looked back down at his snoozing figure, letting him snuggle closer into your lap.

you wished it would just be like this for the rest of time.

#— lily's brainrot ! ☆#witchhunter!ghost #ghost #ghost x reader #ghost x fem!reader #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost riley x fem reader #simon ghost riley fluff #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon riley x female reader #simon riley fluff #ghost fluff

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poorwritingandstalecoffee · 4 months

Text

in vita, in media morte sumus. Ch.2

WC: 1800

Ch.2

Knock! Knock’

“—I- I’m sorry I have to go.” Larissa glanced at her wristwatch and sighed. “I forgot I had a meeting at 9.”

“Oh! Is it the new Adam’s girl?”

Larissa pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed again. “Yes, Vlad, if you must know. Now, I’d like to maintain my punctual reputation and not give Morticia another aspect of my character to comment on.”

“ Okay, okay…I’ll let you get to it.” Larissa could hear him chuckling on the other end at the tension in her voice, and she snapped the phone shut.

Larissa stood up and smoothed down her white dress. Deep breaths, smile, placate, and it will be over in no time. Larissa raised her head and took measured steps toward the door. It’s fine; she’ll jest with you, Gomez, with smile, and you’ll welcome the new addition to Nevermore.

Larissa placed her hand on the doorknob. Please, god, don’t let her be like Wednesday.

Larissa opened the door and stood there. She smiled and felt her face freeze as she looked from Gomez to Morticia, smiling with a screeching “Rissa!” then to you.

Larissa looked you up and down and felt anxious for a different reason she could not name. She watched you turn your bored gaze from the kids walking down the hallway to her. Larissa felt her cheeks burning as your eyes slowly moved up her figure with a slow calculation.

You observed her heels, her long legs that bent at the knee and straightened repeatedly, her fidgeting clasped hands, the pressed white dress, her long neck, the veins and arteries tensing from her quickening pulse. You slowly smirked as your eyes moved over pristine red lips, smiling at you in masked anxiety, smooth white skin, and finally, pale blue eyes that widened under fluttering black eyelashes.

Larissa heard her pulse pounding in her ears as she watched your eyes narrow at her. She knew your reputation, your murderous history. Half of Larissa was afraid you might kill her with your bare hands right then just for the fun of it. The other half was just as scared you might do something else…and that she wanted you too.

“Larissa…,” Morticia raised an eyebrow and chuckled at her. “I hope we haven’t stepped that far out of your good graces to warrant such silence. Is Wednesday so terrible, dear?”

Larissa flinched. “What? Ohh, no, no. My apologies. Come in, come in.” Larissa said hastily and moved aside.

You stepped inside and glanced over the office's interior, noting little hints of Larissa scattered throughout the space. The bookshelf was filled with favorites of hers, no doubt. The carpet, the worn-in couch next to the fireplace, the glowing lamps scattered throughout the place, and the steaming coffee cup sporting red lipstick print.

Larissa hurried back to the safety of her desk and sat down, straightened the papers on her desk, shut her laptop, and turned her coffee cup an inch. When she felt her heart slowly calm down, she clasped her hands on the desk and turned toward the Addams family with a smile.

“So, Ms. Addams, you’re Wednesday’s older sister by four years. She has mentioned you a few times, and I can certainly see who her role model is.”

Sitting between Morticia and Gomez, you turn your head slightly to eye her unease, hiding behind the sweet civility. “Hmm, based on the telling of recent horrors occurring within this place, I’d say I taught her more skills for survival and detection than any of your staff was able to do within a year.”

“Ahh, yes, we’ve increased the security measures for hiring staff and securing the school. We’ve also established new policies with the Jericho mayor for creating better connections and awareness between the outcast and normie communities.” Larissa smiled through her sigh and clenched her hands tighter. “Nevermore is now safer for outcasts than it has ever been.”

You smirked. “I could have made that happen for you in one night. All with a single swipe of a knife.”

“Des, dear, it’s impolite to murder the town before getting to know its inhabitants.” Morticia glanced at Gomez, who winked at her.

They glanced at Larissa, who took a deep breath and said, “I’m sure you could, but unless you wish to return to your old metal room, I’d suggest not.”

“Who's to say I’d get caught.”

“The news and media outlets that are burning the image of your incarcerated profile and murder charges into the minds of every single normie in the town, let alone the country.”

You leaned back with crossed arms. “I was only caught because I let a single rat escape her little hole. I won’t make that mistake again. Even with you, Principal Weems.”

Larissa’s breath hitched, and she felt rooted to the spot under your gaze.

Gomez and Morticia looked at each other, then at you and Larissa. Gomez slowly said, “My little dagger, give Larissa a chance. She’s like us and only wants you to have a wonderful time here at Nevermore. Just like your sister did.”

You rolled your eyes and sighed. “I won’t kill her.”

Morticia leaned toward you. “Promise?”

You glanced at Larissa and felt shocked that a small part of you hated the familiar look she was giving you. Then the feeling was gone. Smirking again, you said, “We’ll see.”

Larissa shivered under your cold glare. She cleared her throat and pulled the folder from a pile beside her laptop. “Well, let’s, umm, talk about your educational background.”

She flipped open the folder and flicked through the papers, citing your countless transfers from each underfunded public school to the next. Your graduation from a now foreclosed private school—the result of a series of unsolved murders and disappearances, no doubt your doing. Your brief spurts of college classes that ended in screaming blood baths and your two-year residence in a mental institution that led to you setting the place on fire–literally–and killing the entire staff, half the patients, and escaping with the other half into hiding.

“I see that…also like your sister, you could never find the right fit for a school.” Larissa felt like she was treading on thin ice about to break and send her into freezing water.

“Bravo, Principal Weems, you successfully masked my murderous tendencies and attributed them as resulting from an identity crisis among shallow people who failed to hold even an ounce of self-awareness for themselves or others.” You slowly clapped your hands and grinned at her.

Morticia chuckled and glanced at Larissa’s widened eyes. “Des—”

Larissa saw the challenge in your eyes and understood the fire in them. Fine, if you want to play, let’s play. She took a deep breath and snapped the folder shut. “No, Morticia, she’s right. Excuse my brief lapse in judgment for trying to be delicate with the fact that you made a career out of being a serial killer because you failed to find joy in any aspect of your life. I’m sure you thought they all deserved you cutting their lives short. However, now is where that ends. You had a good run of it, I’m sure, slaughtering all those who dared to challenge your expectations. But here at Nevermore, all outcasts are accepted, included, and protected, including you. So, if you so much as try to give someone a papercut, I’ll have you out of here and behind bars before you can even wipe the blood off your hands.”

You smiled like a Cheshire Cat with a dangerous glint in your eyes. Your voice was deadly calm. “Mmm, and you think you can hold me?”

Gomez and Morticia glance at each other.

Larissa forced herself not to squirm in her seat. She spread her arms across the table and gripped the edges. Larissa slowly exhaled and smiled through clenched teeth. “We will do our very best, Ms. Addams.”

You heard Morticia and Gomez clapping and chanting how you would have such a wonderful time here. The mischief adventures, friendships, and memories you would make here will become legendary.

I couldn’t agree more, you thought.

Larissa inhaled deeply at the darkening of your pupils, the unrelenting smirk on your face, and how you tilted your head back as you stared at her. What was she to you? A challenge, an admiration, or a victim?

She blinked and bent to pull two papers from a drawer. Larissa cleared her throat and said, “Then let’s discuss what your schedule will look like. Nevermore has become a dual campus—with high school and lower-level college classes for transitions to university. Your college classes will take place in Hypatia House, the building adjacent to this one, designated for college students. Your dorm room is in this building, along with all other students. However, to maintain a safe distance between groups of students, college students are located in four new halls that have been added to the main mansion.”

You tracked Larissa’s movements and admired how she spoke each syllable with a soft yet deep tone. Her lips formed each syllable carefully, like she was feeling the weight of the words on her tongue. Her hands fiddled with the papers. Her nails scraped the edges, and you thought it intriguing that she admired the color red enough to coat her nails with it.

You glanced up and caught her following your eye movements. She glanced back down quickly and licked her lips. Interesting, you thought.

“You are assigned to Athena Hall—”

“Ohh, Tish, how fitting for her!” Gomez cheered.

“Yes, all she’ll need are her swords to fit the anger. She certainly has the training for it.” Morticia smirked at you with her jest.

“How kind of you, Mother,” you snarked at her with a bored expression. “Speaking of my possessions, my piano—”

“Will be installed in your dorm room by the end of the day. Lurch is already on it, darling.”

Larissa perked up at the notion of you having a musical hobby. She smiled and said, “We’ll have to have Wednesday and you perform together for Nevermore one day!”

“You would be an idiot if you didn’t, Principal Weems. We’re much better when competing, though.” You heard Wednesday say behind you after opening the door.

You stood to greet her and watched your younger sister walk up to you. You looked down at her and crossed your arms. “Sister. You look good as ever in black.”

“You look good, not in a red jumpsuit.”

You raised a brow. “A different red then.”

Wednesday glanced at Larissa before looking back at you. “Careful, she’ll scream at the sight of it…again.”

Your smirk grew, and you side-eyed Larissa. “I think I might enjoy hearing that.”

Larissa watched the interaction with wide eyes and felt herself tense up. The similar black hair, the same calculated eyes, the black clothes, the familiar defiant fire lying in wait beneath a cold stare. Larissa huffed and rolled her eyes. Well, fuck me, she thought.

#michelle's works #larissa weems #larissa weems x reader #principal larissa weems #principal larissa weems x reader

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goodwhump-temp · 7 months

Text

Jake Green Whump | Jericho (2006)

IM BACK. 1x01 Pilot - Emotional, car crash, leg injury, bleeding, limp, weak, ambulancia 1x02 Fallout - Climbing/leg pain cont., limp, shot at 1x03 Four Horsemen - Limp cont. 1x04 Walls of Jericho - Slight limp 1x05 Federal Response - Confronted by Eric, mysterious knowledge, begins to talk about past 1x06 9:02 - Mitch lore, angry, knocked unconscious, punched, thrown, held back 1x07 Long Live the Mayor - Jonah lore (🥵), manhandled 1x08 Rogue River - Shot at, flashbanged, held at gunpoint, Iraq lore, hospital invaded 1x09 Crossroads - Spaced out (beginning), shot at, suicidal 1x12 The Day Before - Flashback; Afghan/Iraq/Contractor lore, wanted, friend dying, 1x13 Black Jack - Voluntold LOL (04:50), shoved, gut-punched w/ stick, pain 1x14 Heart of Winter - Truck flipped, leg pinned, bleeding, pain, slowly freezing to death, hypothermia, tired x3, comforted, guilt, confesses PTSD, emotional pain (+dad bonding), crying 1x15 Semper Fidelis - Hypothermia recovery, limp, betrayed, confrontation, held at gunpoint, knocked unconscious 1x16 Winter's End - Limping 1x17 One Man's Terrorist - Held at gunpoint, hostage 1x18 A.K.A. - Pinned, held at gunpoint 1x19 Casus Belli - Angry, worried, arrested 1x20 One if by Land - Hostage, interrogated, knife put to throat, shot at/surrounded 1x22 Why We Fight - (Flashback; POS/family drama), shot at, sobbing x2

2x01 Reconstruction - Manhandled, angry 2x02 Condor - Tackled, scared, angry 2x03 Jennings & Rall - Aggravated, more Jake lore! 2x06 Sedition - Surrenders, manhandled, [tortured; restrained, isolated, sleep deprived, heat exhaustion, dehydrated], coughing, hallucinating, weak, jolted awake

#whump #emotional whump #whump list #whumplist #jake green whump #jake green #jake green jericho #jake green jericho whump #jericho #jericho tv show #jericho whump #jericho 2006 #skeet ulrich #skeet ulrich whump

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twinklecupcake · 3 months

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Random Spider Demon headcanons:

Spider Queen and her boys are not the last remaining Spider Demons. (Thank goodness.) Their numbers are very small compared to what they were in the past, and they’re a lot fewer than most demons, though. Instead, they’re scattered in small groups throughout China. It’s hard for them to find each other, but they’re aware of each other’s existence.

Spindrax is Spider Queen’s niece (from her twin sister) and left the nest years ago. She’s kind of off doing her own thing/looking for another group.

Similarly, Huntsman and Goliath are her nephews from her older sister.

Spider Queen was one of the Seven Spider Sisters. She was the youngest - she had a twin sister, but said sister kept insisting she was older (her egg hatched a whole thirty seconds earlier).

All Spider Demons can produce webs, but the quality of the webbing varies depending on the demon. Spiders like Huntsman and Goliath have incredibly strong webs for weapons or shields, but others might have softer and more delicate webs because they use it for weaving.

Spider Demons carry their children everywhere in the first few months of their life. Usually in a silk bag on their back or chest.

Full Spider Demons lay eggs. But a half (or less) Spider child is a live birth. (Do not think about it too long.)

Spiders are matriarchal. If Spider Queen were to have a consort, he’d still be called the king, but she’d be the one in charge. There would be no question.

Spider Queen’s spider body is a mobility aid. She can walk and stand on her human legs, but only for so long. She also likes the added height and intimidation upgrade the mech gives her.

It took the Spiders a long time to stop eating humans. They were one of the few city-dwelling demons that still did. (You see those empty silk cocoons in ‘Noodles or Death?’ Yeah…) After being rescued from Spirit Jail by MK and crew, part of the truce was they had to stop.

Huntsman can and has taken down game several times his size. He brought down a bear.

Spider Demons absolutely cannot survive without meat. There’s no such thing as a vegetarian Spider.

All four of our Spider Demons have nightmares about the furnace, Not the Mayor, and LBD. Spider Queen’s lasted longest.

Spiders adopt ‘strays’ and orphans into their group. Any Spider who’s alone, won’t be for very long. Spiders are also very protective of anyone they deem as ‘theirs.’

Spider courtship mainly involves giving gifts of food. Huntsman had to explain that to Sandy later. It was hilarious.

Spider Queen considers all the spiders in the caves to be her children - this one is sorta canon though as it was mentioned in one of the tie-in books. Prior to her attempt of fighting LBD, she sent them all away for their safety.

Goliath looks tough and can punch a hole in stone, but he’s a big softie.

And a horrible tragic one: once, Goliath and Huntsman were looking for a new home before Silken Web Cave was relocated to the sewers. They found one cave that showed signs of Spiders having once lived there, but it clearly had not been used in centuries. Then Huntsman found old eggshells from smashed eggs. He urged himself and Goliath out fast, and was pretty messed up by it for a few days.

#q #monkie kid #silkteashipping #<- mentioned

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talonabraxas · 1 month

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Shirdal 'Lion-Eagle' Talon Abraxas

Ancient origins of the griffin

A legendary creature with the body, tail, and back legs of a lion, the head and wings of an eagle, and, sometimes, an eagle's talons as its front feet first appears in ancient Iranian and Egyptian art dating back to before 3000 BCE. In Egypt, a griffin-like animal can be seen on a cosmetic palette from Hierakonpolis, known as the "Two Dog Palette", dated to 3300–3100 BCE. The divine storm-bird, Anzu, half man and half bird, associated with the chief sky god Enlil was revered by the ancient Sumerians and Akkadians. The Lamassu, a similar hybrid deity depicted with the body of a bull or lion, eagle's wings, and a human head, was a common guardian figure in Assyrian palaces.

In Iranian mythology, the griffin is called Shirdal, which means "Lion-Eagle." Shirdals appeared on cylinder seals from Susa as early as 3000 BCE. Shirdals also are common motifs in the art of Luristan, the North and North West region of Iran in the Iron Age, and Achaemenid art. The 15th century BCE frescoes in the Throne Room of the Bronze Age Palace of Knossos are among the earliest depictions of the mythical creatures in ancient Greek art. In Central Asia, the griffin image was later included in Scythian "animal style" artifacts of the 6th–4th centuries BCE.

In his Histories, Herodotus relates travelers' reports of a land in the northeast where griffins guard gold and where the North Wind issues from a mountain cave. Scholars have speculated that this location may be referring to the Dzungarian Gate, a mountain pass between China and Central Asia. Some modern scholars including Adrienne Mayor have theorized that the legend of the griffin was derived from numerous fossilized remains of Protoceratops found in conjunction with gold mining in the mountains of Scythia, present day eastern Kazakhstan. Recent linguistic and archaeological studies confirm that Greek and Roman trade with Saka-Scythian nomads flourished in that region from the 7th century BCE, when the semi-legendary Greek poet Aristeas wrote of his travels in the far north, to about 300 CE when Aelian reported details about the griffin - exactly the period during which griffins were most prominently featured in Greco-Roman art and literature. Mayor argues that over-repeated retelling and drawing or recopying its bony neck frill (which is rather fragile and may have been frequently broken or entirely weathered away) may have been thought to be large mammal-type external ears, and its beak treated as evidence of a part-bird nature that lead to bird-type wings being added. Others argue fragments of the neck frill may have been mistook for remnants of wings.

Lucius Flavius Philostratus (170 – 247/250 CE), a Greek sophist who lived during the reign of the Roman emperor Philip the Arab, in his "Life of Apollonius of Tyana" also writes about griffins that quarried gold because of the strength of their beak. He describes them as having the strength to overcome lions, elephants, and even dragons, although he notes they had no great power of flying long distances because their wings were not attached the same way as birds. He also described their feet webbed with red membranes. Philostratus says the creatures were found in India and venerated there as sacred to the sun. He observed that griffins were often drawn by Indian artists as yoked four abreast to represent the sun.

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cassiefromhell · 11 months

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Bats and Fire 04

"The Calendar Situation"

Last time on bats and fire... 01 02 03

a/n: it turns out that i have bad writing motivation and love bouncing between projects, lol (also you can blame late updates on my current bg3 phase and jjk hyperfixation). so expect BAF 1-2x monthly. once again, i am very open to suggestions/themes for future chapters/episodes, so leave them in comments or my inbox!! and my requests are always open <3 enjoy!

warnings: smut, mdni/18+. p in v, oral (f receiving) morning sex, character watches while y/n is eaten out, interruptions, slight overstimulation, etc...

wc: 3.4k

Things were thoroughly out of hand.

Your mates were incapable of not fighting over every single second of your free time. And that turned into tug of war games where you get the lovely privilege of being the rope, and you know what you also weren’t getting?

Sex.

You had not had sex in two weeks.

But you have five mates? How’s that possible?

Because you are almost never left alone with any of them long enough to get someone’s shirt off, nevermind a hand in your pants.

And a girl will get fed up after a while.

But luckily, on your first expedition after your cycle ended, you found the perfect solution…

You stumble into the old shop, wiping your dirtied hands off on your pants. The scent of magic immediately hits your nose, and you bite your tongue to distract yourself from it.

“You look like you’ve been to hell and back,” the female behind the counter says, her sunken gray eyes tracing over your tattered clothing.

You clear your throat, approaching the counter. “Do you carry any blade polish, or leather cleaner?”

She pauses, then opens and closes her mouth. “Say… are you the hunter that our mayor is paying to clear our woods of those damned Puca?”

“How could you tell?”

“I had a feeling.”

The female hobbles her way around the counter, and leads you to the left. She opens a cabinet door, and pulls out two glass containers, one with a clear liquid and the other a slight brown. She hands them both to you. “Your polish and cleanser.”

“Thank you,” you say, turning to head back to the counter. But something shimmers in the corner of your eye, and you pause, turning to face it.

It’s a pile of calendars, the edges glimmering with the sparkle of spells. But who would need a magical calendar?

“Eyeing the Mrythat Calendar?” the shopkeeper asks, coming up beside you. “No one ever buys ‘em.”

“What do they do?” you ask, reaching out to take one and examine it.

“You buy a few, sign ‘em with blood, and then they’re connected to you. Write something on one, it appears on all the others. Useless, if you ask me, but a merchant came through ‘ere with an offer I couldn’t refuse,” she explains, then starts back towards the counter.

You take six of the magical calendars, tucking them under your arm.

“You’re sure ‘bout that, hon?” the female raises a brow at you. “Don’t know what you’d use ‘em for.”

“You don’t even know,” you grin, dropping the calendars on the counter. “You don’t even know.”

The next time you were at each of your mates’ residences, you spread the calendars. Of course, you happened to be with Azriel and Cassian in the House of Wind next, so you got to work...

The sound of the hammer nailing the calendar into the wall echoes down the hall. You step back, satisfied, admiring the shimmering calendar mounted over the soft blue paint.

Cassian rounds the corner, slacks hanging low on his waist, rubbing his eyes. “Love… what’cha doing at four a.m…?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” you beam up him, gesturing to the glorious calendar — the solution to all of your problems. “Too excited. Look at it!”

“That’s… that's nice, love,” Cassian mutters, walking up behind you and putting his hands on your waist. “But let’s go back to bed, hmm?”

“No, no,” you gesture to the calendar once more. “I’ve gotta explain to you both how this works— hey— Azriel! Azriel, are you up?”

In response, a shadow comes to your side, winding around your leg.

You frown. “Did your master send you?”

The shadow tightens its grip.

“Is he just avoiding getting up?”

Even tighter.

You huff, poking Cassian’s shoulder. “Go get Azzie. This is important. And now I know he’s awake.”

The Illyrian nods and trudges off, cursing under his breath and running a hand over his face.

You almost feel a little bad, but then you’re distracted by your calendar again.

You did research on how these work. They were invented specifically for managing one person’s schedule, like a boss giving them to his employees to find time for meetings with them. Whoever’s schedule was being managed, just had to mark the calendar with a bloody fingerprint, and then all the calendars they marked would sync up.

You grin, sticking your thumb into your mouth and piercing the skin, then you press it to the back of one of the pages. Instantly, the calendar glows, and then stops, but when you flip it to the current month, you find that it’s been filled in with all of your missions and plans — the magic has even sorted out what days you’re in which court, with which mates.

You grin maniacally.

Shadows slide around the corner, and out come your two Illyrian mates, bleary-eyed and wings damn near dragging.

You grin and clap your hands, pointing at the calendar. “Lookit! Look at what I did!”

“What did you do?” Azriel asks, coming to stand at your side and placing a hand on your lower back. It’s obvious that he’s trying his hardest to sound interested.

“Cass, c’mere,” you grin, tugging him to your other side. “Okay, okay, so, how this works. I have six of these calendars. They’re all enchanted, and they’ll soon all be connected to me by blood. When someone marks one, the others get the same marking, and I simply have to think it in order to add something. Each of my mates will get one, and so my schedule can be fairly organized.”

Cassian nods slowly. “Okay… but I thought normal scheduling was working fine.”

You bark a laugh. “No, no, no. You all are rather fond of interrupting each other’s dates and alone time, claiming to have ‘forgotten’ that I was already scheduled. This fixes that.”

“I do not,” Azriel grumbles, wings twitching.

“Well, see, the main inspiration here was my sex life,” you explain, perfectly calm as both your mates’ eyebrows shoot up. “I haven’t had actual sex in a week and a half, did you both know that?”

Cassian narrows his eyes. “No, no— how is that possible?”

You point to last Friday on the calendar, when you were marked to be on a date with Rhys. “Look, here; at this time, I was on the riverbank of the Sidra, about to be fucked against a tree, until Cassian came in and stayed for the rest of the date— and was completely oblivious to the mood and the arousal drenching the air.” You point to two days ago, when you were supposed to be sleeping at Eris’s palace. “At eleven p.m. that night, I was fully prepared to be ravished and yet Lucien needed me for something. And that’s not an issue, right, because two is better than one! But no, Eris and Lucien refuse to be naked in the same room at the same time.”

“…I see why you want the calendar,” Azriel murmurs, walking away and coming back with a pen and approaching the calendar.

“What are you doing?” Cassian asks, tilting his head to the side.

“We’re the first ones to have this, right?” Azriel looks at you, and you nod in confirmation. “We have all the empty slots. I’m filling them all in with me.”

Cassian blanches, and then steps forward, promptly shoving Azriel to the side and stealing the pen. “Give me that! You can’t take all the slots!”

“You were just too slow,” Azriel grumbles, gesturing to the calendar, which is now half-filled with dates… all with Azriel.

You snort, and then turn on your heel, heading back down the hall. “I’m going back to bed. Whose bed am I getting in?”

“Mine,” they both say at the same time, and you can feel the glare they give each other.

You grin, and turn the corner, knowing one — or both — of them is bound to come running after you.

All goes well with your visit to Rhysand, and he was very happy with his new calendar. However, things get a little bumpy when you’re at the Autumn Court…

“Fuck—” you whimper, gripping Lucien’s hair as his tongue works at your clit, fingers pumping in and out of you steadily. You’ve already come twice, and he’s damn close to working you up to a third.

The bliss is nearly lighting you on fire, legs shaking as you finally approach that cliff again, climbing higher and higher and—

“Cum for me,” Lucien murmurs against your clit, the vibrations nearly tipping you over the edge. He looks up at you with those eyes from between your legs, and you whimper as you reach that—

A knock comes on the door.

Lucien pauses, and you whimper, desperately bucking your hips into his hand and lips.

“Shit, what time is it?” he asks, sitting up and looking at the clock, mouth glistening with your slick.

“Lucien,” you grit out, “please.”

“Times up,” a familiar voice calls from behind the door. “Your slot is only from seven to eight, I have her for the full night from eight p.m. to sunrise.”

You hiss in frustration, gently tugging at Lucien’s hair. “Ignore him.”

Eris slips into the bond immediately. Ignore me?

Eris, give me five minutes. Please.

That’s not what the calendar says.

Does it sound like I give a shit about what the calendar says? You growl down the bond, frustration only building.

Lucien has obediently gone back to working your cunt, sliding two fingers back in. His mouth latches around your clit immediately, and the wondrous sensations start to build up again.

Two minutes later, Eris is speaking down the bond again.

I’d have already gotten you off by now.

Your only reply is an audible whine, surely loud enough for Eris to hear on the other side of the door.

And clearly he does hear it, because he’s winnowed to your side within seconds.

“Add a finger, it’ll make her come faster,” Eris idly comments, taking a seat next to you on the bed. “And harder. That’s important.”

You’re now completely naked and vulnerable in a room with two fully clothed males. Because apparently you’re the only one getting their clothes taken off today.

“What are you—”

“Shush,” Eris hushes you with a gentle kiss, stroking a hand down the center of your torso, rubbing circles on the sensitive skin of your belly. “Let us take care of you.”

Before you can reply, his head dips down to your left nipple, licking a circle around it. His thumb runs circles around your other breast, all while Lucien increases his pace.

With very little warning, your climax creeps up on you, pleasure suddenly spiking. You cry out, gripping Eris’s shoulder for support as you tip over the edge, stars and flames filling your vision as the waves of your orgasm crash over you again and again and again and—

“What does that make?” Eris asks, stroking your hair.

“Three,” replies Lucien, who is gently rubbing circles over your clit, coaxing you through the last waves of pleasure with gentle kisses along your thighs.

The High Lord clicks his tongue. “That won’t do. She needs at least five, else apparently she’ll get needy at an ungodly hour.”

You try to protest. “Will not—”

He stops you with a quirked brow. “Two weeks ago. You woke me up before sunrise by humping me. Like a puppy in heat.”

You open your mouth, and then close it. He’s right. You did do that. But he looked so damn sexy like that, features relaxed and mouth parted and—

Lucien licks a stripe up your folds, and all your thoughts screech to a halt.

“Love,” Rhysand whispers in your ear, pressing kisses over your cheek and hair. “Love, time to get up.”

You blink awake, squinting in the early morning light. “Mm... what time is it?”

“Seven,” he murmurs, slipping his hands up and under the shirt you’re wearing — his shirt — and rubbing your skin.

You groan. “Cass isn’t picking me up ‘till seven-thirty. Why’d you wake me?”

“Because I was thinking we could squeeze a little something in,” Rhys kisses your neck, pressing his hips to yours, letting you feel his bulge beneath his pants. “If you so please.”

Your heart skips a beat, and you bite your lip. You run your hand down his chest, finding his bulge and palming him through his pants. “Needy, are we?”

“Please,” he groans, rutting against your hand once, twice, then pressing more kisses across your collarbones.

You smirk and nod, spreading your legs for him. His reaction is instant, making quick work of your panties and discarding his pants.

He presses a finger into your entrance slowly, hissing as it comes back soaked. “Fuck. So wet for me, love.”

You tilt your hips up for him, and he strokes himself twice, then slowly slides in, stretching you wide. You whimper, gripping his shoulders and chewing your lip to stay quiet. “Fuck…”

Rhys picks up a slow pace, gentle and loving as the kisses he’s pressing along your collar and neck. He rubs your hips in time with his thrusts, each time hitting just a little deeper, each push a little more pleasurable than the last.

“Please,” you moan, desperate for more, deeper, harder, faster… and he doesn’t give it to you.

He presses a chaste kiss to your lips, shaking his head. “Impatient little thing. It’s bright and early, and you want to have the shit fucked out of you?”

You nod, and he merely chuckles. The sound is low and deep and effectively makes you even wetter around him.

He pulls out, and you open your mouth to whine, but he sweeps you up into his arms, picking you up out of the bed. Before you know it, your bare back is against a wall, and he’s entered you once more, this angle deeper than before.

He picks up a bruising pace immediately, and you moan, capturing his lips in yours to swallow both of your noises. You can’t help but tilt your hips with each thrust, desperately matching his pace as that coil in your abdomen begins to grow tauter.

“Fuck— fuckfuckfuckk—” you hiss against his mouth, clutching at his biceps, his neck, his shoulders — anything to ground you as you’re pulled higher and higher.

“I’ve got you, love,” he groans, slamming into you harder, brushing that spot so deep inside of you—

You come immediately, clenching around him and squeezing your eyes shut, moaning loudly as the pleasure drags you down, down, nearly into unconsciousness as your thighs cramp. Rhys has to hold you up to keep you from falling out of his arms, and he follows you with three sharp thrusts and a low growl, spilling into you.

He kisses you, gently, and you run your hands through his hair, rolling your hips against his once.

“God, I love you,” you murmur, between gasps for air.

“I love you too, darling. I love waking up to you next to me,” he murmurs back, nosing your neck. “I love fucking you first thing in the morning.”

“Round two?” You run a hand down his abdomen, licking your lips. You can’t help it; you want to taste him.

He grins deviously, opening his mouth to reply — but then footsteps sound down the hall, accompanied with what is obviously Cassian whistling. He’s definitely giving you a warning that he’s coming — he could be quieter than that.

“Fuck,” you grumble. “Just a sec.”

Cassian, you speak down the bond. Not done here. Give me half an hour.

What? No. He whines, but his footsteps halt. I’m scheduled to pick you up at seven thirty. It’s my time.

I’m aware. The schedule isn’t supposed to be exact. You guys seem to have an issue with that.

…Isn’t exact reserved time the point of the schedule?

You sigh, shaking your head. “Change of plans. I’m calling a mates’ meeting.”

Half an hour later, all of your mates are gathered at Rhys’s dining table, their calendars sitting in front of them. You sit at the head of the table, decidedly unhappy…

“Alright,” Azriel starts, leaning forward on his elbows. “I’ll break the ice. What’s got you upset, love?”

“What do you think has me upset?” you grit out, glaring over at him.

Azriel suppresses a flinch, leaning back in his seat.

“I’m assuming it has to do with the calendar?” Eris says, gesturing to the calendars in front of them all.

“Uh huh. And why, exactly, did I enact the calendar rule?”

There’s a short pause, and then Lucien responds. “To organize your schedule?”

“Because you wanted more sex,” Cassian corrects him, rubbing his chin. Lucien, Eris, and Rhys whip their heads to look at him, having not been there for that conversation. “But hasn’t that succeeded?”

“More sex, yes. But short sex. Painfully short. You know why? Because I start having sex with one of you. We do the deed. I want more. You want more. Then what happens? Knock knock, someone else comes along and refuses to give up precious time from their slot.”

Cassian looks down and away, making a face. Eris doesn’t look pleased either.

“You guys,” you sigh. “The calendar is flexible. You can deal with having half an hour taken off of your slots. It’s supposed to be a guide, not a strict schedule.”

The males before you begrudgingly grumble in agreement, and you gesture to the calendars.

“Okay, thank you. Now that that’s understood, it’s time to schedule next month’s times. Please open your calendars,” you instruct, opening your own. Everybody follows your lead, so you continue. “I’ve marked in all the slots available, and when I’ll be gone. I have two missions next month; a dragon study and a job for the Winter court clearing out a pair of Banshees. The dragon study I have to do alone, but one of you can tag along on the clearing.”

Azriel immediately reaches for a pen, but not before Eris has already winnowed one into his hand, already writing his name.

“Ah!” you hiss, grabbing Eris’s wrist. “We’re drawing sticks.”

Eris snarls at you on pure instinct, then his face goes slack. “Sorry, sorry— I didn’t mean to—”

Immediately, your four other mates are up out of their seats, teeth bared and ready to attack Eris.

“Dear mother,” you groan. “It was instinct. Everybody down.”

Everyone sits.

“That’s the other thing,” you sigh, waving your hand to winnow in a cup with five sticks in it, all marked with a name. “You all need to work on the hostility. I know it’s difficult. But mistakes will be made, fights will be had, and instinct is instinct.”

Lucien mumbles a ‘sorry’ to Eris, and the rest follow, some less apologetic than others.

You carry on with the meeting, and you draw sticks, deciding the order of who gets to pick first. Cassian, much to his joy, gets first, then Azriel, then Lucien, followed by Rhysand, and in dead last — which you’d bet money was influenced by someone’s magic — is a very salty Eris.

Nevertheless, the dates are set, and you dismiss everyone—

“Hold on,” Azriel cuts in, holding up a finger. “There was a prearranged date with Rhys on here. Why only him?”

“Because he’s set to meet my parents,” the words fly out of your mouth before you realize what you’re saying, and you immediately clamp your jaw shut.

Damn your mouth.

All five heads turn to look at you, shocked faces adorning all but one — Rhys, who knew about this and didn’t question it.

“Why only him?” Eris asks, raising a brow.

“I want to meet your parents!” Cassian pouts, leaning forward against the table.

“I do as well,” Lucien adds, scratching the back of his neck.

“Agreed,” Azriel finishes. “I’m free that time. We could just all meet them at once.”

Agreement runs through the circle, leaving you opening and closing your mouth.

Because there’s one issue.

One little, tiny issue…

“Cauldron boil me,” Eris murmurs, slowly leaning back in his seat. “They don’t know you have more than one mate, do they?”

Ah, yes.

That.

To be continued…

tags: @awoa1 @llovelydove @bookishbroadwaybish @maddietheshoe @eerievixen @ghostofnightcrawlerpast @cleverzonkwombatsludge @hyemishii @caro-lightwood-blog @the-sweet-psycho @myheartfollower @bubybubsters @luvmoo @foreverrandomwritings @ummmmmchillanywaysso @spongehappy @fell-in-luvs

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bangtanhoneys · 3 months

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GRACE TOUR DIARY: April 2nd 2025 - New York City

If there was one thing Big Hit was good at, it was backup plans.

The news had arrived at their hotel an hour after the concert had finished and Grace had gone to bed. Weather warnings of heavy snow and wind across Chicago and New York meant there would be travel disruptions but nothing major as of yet. However, as the hour passed, more updates were coming through to say the weather was getting bad and flights had been cancelled.

There was no other way of getting to New York City in the time they needed to so the staff were looking at hiring another private plane, yet flights were banned from leaving or coming to Chicago so that was off the cards. Trains meant it was a 20-hour journey on one train and then there was logistics of it all, with staff, dancers, luggage, bodyguards and security.

The only other option was to hire cars.

And so before 5am, ten black SUVS had been hired to carry their dancers, staff, luggage and Grace from Chicago to New York City. And that’s what Grace woke up to at 5 am.

By 5:30 am, she was dressed, packed away and looking over the plans with Sejin who had been on the phone to the team in Korea.

“So it’s going to take about 13 hours to drive, but that’s without stops so we’re going to change drivers around so everyone can get a rest. We have to take the longer route as the other route has major road works on it which could delay us even further. We’ve delayed the meeting with the Mayor until tomorrow as he already knows the issues and everyone else with schedules has been informed of what’s going on. I have no doubt tomorrow will continue as planned. Still, for today, we’re not taking any chances,” Sejin explained to the small team around him which included the drivers, the bodyguards, Grace’s female manager and Grace herself.

“I can drive as well as I’ve got my international licence,” Grace mentioned and she could see everyone look uneasy. “If only to help people take a break because I don’t want anyone getting into trouble or feeling unwell because they're trying to get me to New York. If I can help, I will.”

Which is how Grace found herself with a set of keys for one SUV to start the leg of the journey out of Chicago and to Toledo, where someone else would take over the next leg of the journey for her. It wasn’t too bad, it was a bit big the car but the radio was on and Sejin was next to her. Her female manager, Hana, behind Sejin and a bodyguard next to her. Her luggage had taken over the boot.

The American highways were easy and straight, massive trucks going past on deliveries and if they hadn’t been in somewhat of a rush, Grace might have enjoyed the drive a little bit more and enjoyed what scenery she could see.

They pulled into Toledo four hours later and swapped drivers, with Grace now in the back with Hana and Sejin in the front still. It was 11 pm in Seoul and she sent a quick message to the group chat, knowing it wouldn’t probably be picked up by any of the boys until later on in the day.

‘Snow across Chicago and New York. Just drove for four hours to Ohio and now we’re on the way to New York. Wonder if we can stop for burgers somewhere.’

Hobi, surprisingly, was the first one to read it and answer.

‘Jin-hyung and I are out having dinner! We’re thinking of you and your burgers. Stay safe. Don’t drive like a maniac.’ Accompanying the message was a GIF of Stray Kids dancing to their song Maniac.

There was nothing more she could do in the car other than catch up on sleep, check the weather, check the time, and talk to Hana about whatever popped into her head and by the time Grace opened her eyes again, she could see the Big Apple looming ahead.

“New York New York, it’s a hell of a town,” she sang under her breath but Sejin had heard her, causing him to laugh. It had been a long 9 hours from their break in Toledo to a small town outside of Pittsburg where they changed drivers and cars again and then another break in another small town just before they made the last part of the journey.

They rolled into the underground parking at 7 pm and they were all tired, sore, in need of stretching their legs and just in general need of a rest. Sejin had been managing their schedule with every mile of the journey and while the day had been a washout due to the weather, tomorrow’s schedule would go as planned. Up early to go for a meeting with the Mayor, a tour of the 9/11 Memorial and museum and then it would be onto Jimmy Fallon.

Grace had never been more happy to see a hotel bed in her life and it didn’t take much for her to climb into the many layers of covers, fluff up the pillows and go straight to sleep without the usual nerves and worries at her heels. The trip across five states had worn everyone out and while the alarm was early, it wouldn’t be another wake-up call at 5 am.

New York welcomed Grace when she opened her curtains to see the sun shining and the snow starting to melt, city workers were already out to clear up as much as they could and while the news had been reporting about the snowstorm, there were a couple of channels talking about the upcoming Grace concert. Thankfully no fans had been brave enough to try and camp outside in the horrible conditions for merchandise or catch a glimpse but there had been record sales of her two nights at Barclays Center in Brooklyn.

The meeting with the Mayor was nothing more than a ‘welcome to New York’ and Grace posed with the Mayor and his staff, all showing finger hearts to the camera and the pictures were soon posted to social media not long after Grace had left. And with a police escort, it was off to the 9/11 memorial. There would be no BANGTAN BOMB filming for this one, this would just be a personal visit with one photographer to capture a couple of photos but it would be minimal. It was not something that Grace felt like it needed to be broadcasted.

However, that didn’t stop the news from spreading and articles soon appeared, especially online blogs, where they spoke briefly about her visit to the City Hall and then the 9/11 memorial but they more spoke about her Karen Millen belted dress that had been picked specially for the meeting and for the memorial. They talked about how it complimented the first day, how black was appropriate, and how her black heels made her look taller but they weren’t stilettos or stripper heels.

“No one cares about anything other than fashion,” Grace sighed as she handed the phone back to Hana.

“The dress has sold out as well,” Hana commented as she left the room as Sejin wandered in.

“The Grace effect,” he chuckled as he took a seat at the table in the lavish hotel suite and helped himself to the small buffet the hotel had provided for lunch.

The Grace in question snorted to herself and finished off her cup of tea, letting out a large yawn and stretching up her arms. “So,” she said once she finished trying to wake herself up. “Jimmy Fallon - they start filming at 5 pm, don’t they but we’re recording the performance at 3 pm.”

“They’ve got a selected audience ready for the performance recording, half are ARMY and half are regular people. And then at 5 pm, they start the actual recording for the interview and it should take about an hour and a half or maybe two, depending. So we’ll be back at the hotel by at least 7 pm,” Sejin confirmed as he finished off the selection of sandwiches he had picked.

“And rehearsals start tomorrow morning.”

“Rehearsals start at Barclays tomorrow and you’ve got a full day of them as we’re a bit behind but you’ve got that basketball tomorrow night. And then obviously the day of the concert, soundcheck, a couple of interviews mid-afternoon then the concert itself,” Sejin reeled off without having to look at his phone for the schedule since he knew it by heart. He had to know it off by heart so he could keep his team and everyone else in check.

There were no nerves for Grace as they made their way to the studios to film Jimmy Fallon. He was one of the few interviews who got things right and didn’t make it awkward, didn’t treat them any differently, and respected them as a band and individually. She remembered meeting him the first time, how he had fallen in love with all of them but Jimin especially. And that had been clear when Jimin had done his solo trip there, how accommodating Jimmy was of a young man who was just finding his feet on his own. And the interview with Yoongi was another indication that Jimmy had done his research and had known his favourite group enough to ask the right questions, including basketball.

Grace knew Jimmy wouldn’t be asking the awkward questions tonight. She hoped.

He was already there waiting for her and it surprised her as he walked over, hand out ready to shake hers. “Miss. Chu,” he said in a fake posh British accent which had her laughing. “Mr. Fallon,” she replied and shook his hand which made Jimmy grin and hug her instead.

“Welcome back to New York! We’re excited to have you here and I can’t wait to come to the first concert, I’ve got tickets with my family.”

“Oh really? Well, make sure you bring them backstage so I can meet them,” Grace said as she darted a glance towards Hana who nodded and made a note on her phone.

“Amazing! I’ll let you get to your rehearsal for your performance which I can’t wait for, I’ve been gushing about it forever and then I’ll see you later on for your interview. Nervous?”

“With you? Never,” she grinned.

A small rehearsal for her performance without her costume meant it was easy sailing. While it was harder to pull off a grand dance routine on such a small stage, the dancers adapted quickly and before anyone knew it, it was time to record the performance. It was like being in Korea, someone coming up and explaining what would happen, when to cheer, when to applaud, how long it would take, etc.

She could see who was ARMY from the side of the stage. The merchandise they were wearing gave it away and while they didn’t have their ARMY BOMBS, she could see a glimpse of who their bias was with the BT21 characters on clothes or jewellery. So while she didn’t have the boys with her, she did have the next best thing.

The performance of 7 Rings went off like a house on fire. The crowd were so responsive, especially to a remix of the track to make it different to any other performance and the purple outfit Grace had specifically worn in respect to her fans had caught the attention of people on Twitter.

However, while the performance was regarded as one of the best across social media, the interview that came afterwards would gain millions of views and be talked about all the way up to Grace’s two concerts in Brooklyn.

Holding the vinyl cover of the ‘In My Head’ album and the cover of the ‘Here In My Arms’ mini album, Jimmy beamed at the camera. He went to open his mouth but the screams blocked out anything he had to say, causing him to pause for more than 10 minutes until the crowd calmed down enough so he could begin his introduction.

“Our next guest,” he paused just in case the screams started again, “is an eight-time

Grammy-nominated artist and won two Grammys only earlier this year! A global music icon, part of one of the biggest bands the world has ever seen which some of you know as BTS. Her debut album, In My Head, continues to break world records in streams and has been the Billboard Number 1 album for two months, and it shot back to the top of the charts again with her world tour, including the mini-album released only earlier this year - that broke records in its own right. She’s in New York for two sold-out concerts, which sold out in 10 seconds. 10 seconds! Ladies and gentlemen, it’s a pleasure to introduce you to Grace Chu!”

Grace took a deep breath and walked out to the stage, pausing only briefly to bow to the crowd who were so loud it took her breath away as she laughed and headed towards Jimmy. It was the usual hugs, pausing to show her off to the crowd, to marvel at her outfit which had been specifically chosen for the night - a vintage Alexander McQueen 1997 black dress, with two dragons that intertwined each other up to her chest. A pair of Louboutin heels and emerald earrings to match the emerald bracelet she received from Grace. To keep it simple and easy, her blonde hair was styled up into a sleek bun.

“Now, before we start and before you say anything, I want to hear your accent because not many people know about this,” Jimmy started the interview. “So Grace, if you wouldn’t mind and turn to the camera there,” he pointed out the one in question, “and introduce yourself.”

Grace hid her smile and turned to the camera, bowing slightly. “Good evening, my name is Grace Chu and it’s a pleasure to be on the Jimmy Fallon show.” Her British accent made those watching at home later on pause, frantically Google her name so they could see why she had a British accent and wasn’t speaking Korean.

“When I first met you and I heard you speak, I was blown away. I was expecting Namjoon’s American accent, but that’s a proper British accent you have. And obviously, most people expect you to speak Korean.”

“It is amusing when most people interviewing us, especially abroad, turn to look at the translator for my answer and then look at me weirdly as if I’ve started speaking another language that’s not English and not Korean,” Grace shrugged with her hands up as if to say ‘what can you do?’

“So you’re half British and half Korean, correct? And you were born in Manchester?”

“So my Dad is from South Korea and my Mum is from London. And they met while my Dad was working in London and he had to travel to Manchester, where I was born, for his job so obviously my Mum came with him. We lived there for seven years and then we had to move to Germany for Dad’s work. I think I was about ten when we officially moved to South Korea, to Suwon-si where my grandparents live. And then we moved to Seoul a year later.”

“You can speak German?” Jimmy asked, looking completely baffled as if this was complete news to him.

Grace grinned and nodded, asking him how he was in perfect German.

“Is there any language you can’t speak?”

“My Japanese is terrible. Namjoon is always on my case to take more lessons in Japanese.”

Jimmy snorted behind his hand as he brought up the most recent photo of BTS which was taken just after Hobi came home.

“BTS,” he started then paused when the screams started causing Grace to look startled as she stared at the crowd in amazement. ‘Wow,’ she mouthed with a laugh, giggling as she turned back to look at Jimmy.

“The group,” he said instead and playfully glared at the audience. “You’ve been with them since they first debuted and here you are now, on your own. Have they given you any advice? Or have they had any involvement in your album and tour?”

Grace paused, tilting her head. “The album was made without any input from them mostly because it was my first time where I had creative control over what songs, lyrics, music, videos, and outfits. That was all mine. But there were times when I went to Namjoon or Yoongi, Hobi, any of them and questioned every move that I made, wondering if I was doing the right thing or if this was even a good idea.”

“Good thing you did listen to them as you’ve won two Grammys and you’ve been on the Billboard for two months when the album first came out and back at the top since you landed in Los Angeles for your tour, which has broken Yoongi’s records.”

She bashfully smiled and hid her face when the crowd approved by clapping loudly.

“Has it been hard though?”

“It’s been quiet,” Grace started with a snort of laughter. “But it’s tough because it’s only me and the dancers but I’m on stage for 95% of the time and it’s not like Jungkook is going to appear and do his solo song to give me a break or six other members to take your place so it is tough but ARMY keep me going and their support means a lot.”

She turned towards those she could see in the crowd and saw their finger hearts which made her smile and return those affections.

“Now,” Jimmy grinned as he paused and held down the next card, “since you're here.”

“Oh no,” Grace whispered as she covered her eyes.

“We have to talk about this.”

She didn’t need to know what picture Jimmy was showing because she knew by the noise that met said picture.

A peek through her hands told her everything she needed to know.

The most recent picture of Seokjin, where his hair had grown back to its usual length, had been taken from his Instagram and she was pretty sure she had taken that picture. Grace caught the teasing grin Jimmy sent her way and she sighed, bracing herself for what was coming next.

“You’ve been together for seven years and you released a mini-album on your anniversary, which also broke records. I just have to ask, are we going to be seeing him on your tour?”

It wasn’t the question she had expected if she was honest. She had been expecting something worse and something dirty, especially concerning the lyrics from her Here In My Arms album but it was a simple enough question that exposed more about their relationship than any other question could.

“Maybe,” Grace started and smirked at the cheers. “Maybe. Obviously, our schedules are planned nearly a year in advance and I’ve always said I never wanted to overshadow what the boys were doing in terms of their solo careers so we will have to see.”

“Is he here already?” Jimmy asked, leaning forward.

“As far as I’m aware,” Grace checked her watch, “it’s 6 am in Seoul. So I would imagine he’s currently sleeping off dinner.”

Jimmy pouted, obviously wanting the main exclusive that the power couple would be seen on stage in his hometown of New York but it seemed it just wasn’t going to happen. The rest of the interview flicked from funny to serious with questions ranging from any funny moments with the boys to life in England and she finished off her stint on Jimmy Fallon by doing the karaoke segment that Ariana Grande made famous with the Evanescence rendition.

“Well done, that went perfectly,” Sejin greeted her after it was all said and done and she said her goodbyes to Jimmy, and to the staff and got in the car to head back to the hotel.

The next morning, while it wasn’t too much of an early start, Grace woke up early enough to take a shower and do her skin routine. Breakfast was simple as to not give her a heavy stomach and by 10 am, the team were driving through the streets of New York - from the famous 5th Avenue, past the famous Flatiron Building, and onto the Manhattan Bridge and through Brooklyn until they came up to the Barclays Center which had advertisements for her tour all over the LED screens.

The stage was already set up and the dancers were warming up on various parts of the stage or near the seats where 17,000 fans would be packed in over two nights. This stadium would mark the end of the American leg of the tour and the moment she was done, she’d be back on a plane again.

Rehearsals seemed to go quickly and by 5 pm, she was out of the stadium and dressed up to attend her first basketball game. While it hadn’t been a decision made by her, it was more promotional than anything, she found herself courtside where all the cameras were pointed to see who would be taking up the VIP seats. Sejin was next to her as was a bodyguard who sat just behind the two of them and she knew how Taylor Swift felt every time the camera panned to her instead of the players.

It didn’t help that Yoongi’s Hageum song would play at intervals where her face would be plastered all over the screen. But it was a good game, she got some photos to send back to Yoongi when he would be awake to see them and of course, there were the usual photos with players.

The day of the concert, the sun was out and the hustle and bustle of New York City was well underway by the time Grace rolled out of bed. The day of the concert always had her somewhat nervous, the questions of what could happen would roll around in her head until she got to the stadium to do her soundcheck and run through whatever they had discussed the night before.

Time passed quickly - shower, breakfast, interviews with local TV stations or magazines, then straight to the stadium to do soundcheck mid-afternoon, a quick run-through of two parts where they had to make some adjustments and finally, the time rolled around where she was under the stage, hearing the fans explode into excitement as the VCR started to fade out.

No matter how many times she did it, no matter how big of a crowd, no matter if it was abroad or in South Korea - just the noise of the crowd, the ARMY BOMBS, the costumes some people were wearing when her eyes would catch sight of them, everyone singing along, knowing the words or even some of the dance moves, all of it made her hairs stand up and the worries of the tour wash away within the first half an hour.

The New York crowd was so responsive, especially when she welcomed them to the In My Head tour, standing there for 10 minutes and letting the noise of every person in the stands wash over her like it was the first time.

When the opening chords of Save Me started to play, Grace could see everyone doing Jimin’s signature dance move that had been openly mocked by the group themselves. Catching one of the dancer’s eyes, she grinned and nodded and soon followed, sweeping her arm in front of her as she got to the chorus and without much encouragement, the seven other dancers followed and swiftly executed the choreography after a bit more teasing.

“New York City,” Grace paused as she stood on the stage for the final part where she would finish off the concert with Dangerous Woman. “Thank you so much for spending your night with us. Thank you from the bottom of my heart for breaking your own records by selling out both nights in 10 seconds, you’ve been one of the best crowds so far and I can’t wait to come back with the boys. Love you all.”

ARMY was still singing as Grace was lowered back down to underneath the stage, the ending chords of Dangerous Woman still playing as she reached the bottom where staff were on hand to take away her microphone and in-ears. And for the first time, Grace had to admit, she had left the stage on a high - there were no uncertain thoughts, no worries, no stress or anxiety. If there was going to be a concert that had been the turning point for Grace and what she was capable of, then this would be the concert to do that.

Back at the hotel room, kicking off her shoes with a sigh as her tired feet met the carpet, her eyes caught a massive bouquet waiting for her on the coffee table in the living area of her suite. 50 red roses were sitting in a clear vase filled with water, and a teddy bear that was dressed in a t-shirt that said ‘I Love New York’ was sitting next to the bouquet with an envelope.

Grinning to herself, Grace opened the envelope to one simple note that read: ‘Two days to go - J.’

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